The Animal Inside
by PathlessSpore
Summary: Waylon Jones had always thought of himself as a monster, nothing could ever really change that. Or at least until he met Olivia Branson, the one woman in the world crazy enough to believe he was as human as they come. And for while, he allowed himself to believe it too. But he should have known nothing good lasts forever, especially when it comes to love. Rated M for Language
1. Hey Jude

The Animal Inside  
Batman Fanfiction  
Killer Croc/Waylon Jones/OC  
Romance/Hurt/Comfort/Tragedy  
Chapter 1  
Hey Jude

_And anytime you feel the pain, Hey Jude, refrain.  
Don't carry the world up on your shoulder.  
For well, you know that it's a fool who plays it cool  
by making his world a little colder_

_Hey Jude - The Beatles_

* * *

It was supposedly the grandest party of the year; or so she had heard from the gossiping socialites she had just passed. Olivia Branson looked around the Iceberg Lounge at the laughing guests all too drunk on the expensive Champaign provided by Oswald Cobblepot. She heaved a depressed sigh as she found the emptiest table in the back of the lounge and sat. Her parents were somewhere in there, talking to close friends of the family, potential business partners, and clients.

She hated this.

She hated every single self righteous person in this room, dressed in gaudy makeup and glittery dresses. Who laughed too loud when spoken to, or acted like they were your best friend when you had the money.

She didn't want this life.

She didn't want the money, or the fame, or the possessive "boyfriend" who acted like they were already married.

It was no wonder her brother left.

A waitress approached the table Olivia was occupying and set down a glass of wine for her. The young socialite nodded in thanks and took a sip before deciding that she was going to leave. She pushed back the chair, waded through the crowd and made for the exit in time to avoid her parents and her fiancé.

When she stepped out into the dark Gotham Streets she instantly hailed a cab and made for home. Her condominium was a large expanse given to her by her parents when she moved out. A lavish gift that acted like a leash that cut away her freedom, "We'll give you something nice, but in return you have to do anything we want."

Olivia showered as soon as she got home, to wash the filth she felt on her body by just being around so much snobbery. When she stepped out of the steamy bathroom, wrapped in a fluffy white towel her phone rang. She instantly knew who it was and with a reluctant groan she answered it,

"Olivia, where in the world did you disappear off to?" Demanded the stern voice of her mother Amanda Branson. She was an older woman, with slowly graying brown hair, and old evil green eyes. Her mouth was always set into a perpetual frown, as if she was always disappointed in everything she saw. She spent most of her days with her friends gossiping about some neighbor's scandal, obviously having nothing better to do with her life.

"I had a headache, Mother," lied Olivia wearily, "You and father looked like you were busy and I didn't want to be a bother."

"So you just walked out by yourself, with no escort?" Her mother said, her tone scandalized at the very thought,

"I am a grown woman, Mother," replied the young woman, "I am more than capable of getting myself home-"

"Olivia Maria Branson, how dare you talk back to me! After everything your father and I have given you simply throw it back in our face, just as Steven did." Olivia muttered under breath and rolled her eyes, "Now I'm only going to say this once, young lady, you are a Branson and a lady, as such you are the only hope of producing an heir to the empire your father has built."

_Oh sweet Jesus, here we go. The only reason they keep me around is because I'm some baby making machine for a man I don't even like._ She thought bitterly as her mother prattled on about how she was supposed to marry Jackson Sullivan, the good looking son of some Old Money family who had ties in the oil business. Of course her parents never asked if she wanted this; she supposed to act like her mother and shut up and listen and do as she was told.

She supposed to give up her dreams about being a singer, and settle down with a man whose ego was larger than the sun. She was supposed to grow old and bitter like her mother and treat her own children the same way.

And her brother Steven left because of it.

And because of that all the responsibility of giving her parents the damn male heir fell to her. They took her freedom, took her dreams, and tossed it out the window. They paired her with a man without telling her and drug to every single party they were invited to, so they could tell everyone that their daughter was their pride and joy when they didn't really mean it.

"Now, your father and I were invited to a get together with the Sullivan's and we expect you to be there on time, young lady. Do not disappoint us."

And with that, the bitter old hag hung up the phone. Olivia tossed the wireless device into some unknown corner; she didn't know why she let her parents get away with this. She supposed it had something to do with the fact that before Steven gave up and ran away she had been living in the shadow of her beloved brother.

She and her older sibling had always been close. Not once did he ever ignore her, even while he was trying to live up to their parent's expectations. The summers spent with her brother were the best of her life. Days were spent in the woods behind their villa, exploring and climbing trees, and he always stood up for her when Drake and Amanda Branson called her a bad influence.

Then, a few years ago Steven had gone with some friends to a carnival that often set up its tents outside Gotham. He was off when he returned, a soft smile touching his lips; he didn't care that their mother and father scolded him for mingling amongst the rabble.

That night he told Olivia he had fallen in love.

But they both knew that their mother and father would be outraged. He was engaged to a wealthy young lady with a pedigree a mile long, he was supposed to take over their father's business and carry on the family legacy.

So instead he told Amanda and Drake that he was leaving. He had found his place in the world and it wasn't with them. After a long and lengthy fight, Steven packed up a few clothes and some money and joined the circus, quite literally. He married a young woman by the name Carrie, an acrobat in one of the sideshows, and happily traveled across the country with her.

And so the burden of producing an heir for the Branson family fell to her.

At first she had been delighted. Her parents had a need of her, and in return for the years of torment she endured she demanded as much as she was able.

But now….

Olivia wondered what she had gotten herself into.

After drying her hair, the young heiress walked into the large living room, hoping to settle down and watch some TV. She passed by the dining table, glancing at the mail as she did so. She paused mid-stride and looked back at the colorful flyer sitting underneath a pile of invitations.

A smile crossed her features as she studied the bright and big letters.

_**This Month Only!**_

_**The Famous Gotham Circus returns home!**_

Olivia laughed and hurriedly dressed.

Fifteen minutes later she was driving to the outskirts of the city towards the swampy carnival grounds.

* * *

She clutched her purse tightly against her body; the eagerness that she felt coming here was now replaced by a nervous fear. While she didn't have her parent's phobia of the poorer side of Gotham's citizens, she knew what a man could do if he was desperate enough. So she paid for her ticket as quickly as she could and ducked inside the gates. She searched the crowd looking for her brother's face.

In the past few years she had neglected to visit when the circus came to town, as she had her head so royally up her ass back then. Now, all she wanted was to see a happy and familiar face who didn't hate her. After few minutes of searching she turned to a nearby stand, whose bored worker rested his chin on his hand.

"Excuse me," he looked up at her, "I'm looking for Steven Branson."

"Who?" he furrowed his brow,

"He's married to an acrobat named Carrie."

"Oh," his gaze lit up as she stood, "You're looking for Stevie, he should be by the living trailers just up that way," he pointed a finger down the way, "Just tell the guy who guards the entrance that you're lookin' for Stevie and he'll send some for him. Alright?"

Olivia nodded, thanked the man for his kindness, and found her destination. A large bulky man guarded the only entry into the circle of trailers; he cocked a brow at her as Olivia looked up at him and she swallowed hard as she tried to find her voice.

"I'm looking for Steve Branson."

He turned back and whispered to a passerby, who nodded and disappeared. Nervously the young woman waited, shifting every so often on her feet.

"What's up Buck?" a familiar voice called as he came around the corner, he had choppy brown hair and laughing green eyes. He smirked up at the bounced, who jerked a thumb to Olivia. When the pair's eyes met they stood in stunned silence. Tears pricked her eyes as the older man laughed and rushed her, pulling into a hug that nearly crushed her spine,

"Liv, is that really you?"

"Yeah, it is!" she replied happily, as her brother pulled back to look at her. He had grown up so much in the last few years. Before, her brother had been tall and skinny, but now because of his years of labor he had finally grown muscle to fit the tall physique he had inherited. Callused hands held her cheeks as he kissed her on the nose, the stubble on his chin tickling her skin as he laughed again.

"It's been too long, come inside, Carrie will be happy to see you."

Buck nodded at the pair, flashing Olivia a kind smile as Steven led her into the living area. A large bonfire burned brightly in the middle, surrounded by laughing people who ate and drank together. They greeted a few people on their way to a quaint and homey trailer. He let her pass in first, a fine spicy aroma hitting her nose as soon as she ducked in.

"Carrie!" Steven called as he looked into the nearby kitchen, "We have a guest."

A blonde, young lady looked up from the stove and smiled, "Olivia, is that you?"

"Hello, Carrie, it's been a while."

Steven led her to a nearby seat and the young woman made herself at home. Her older brother gave her a mischievous smile and turned his head down the hall,

"Annie, Joseph, come out here!" Confused she heard the patter of small feet come running down the hall; two children ran into the living room, giggling madly. Steven smiled, "Say hello to your Aunt Olivia, you two."

The pair immediately jumped into her lap, kids no more than four years of age. They giggled and talked, playing with her curly red-brown hair, lavished her with kisses and small presents. The boy, Joseph, shared his aunt's fiery hair and bright green eyes, a common Branson family trait; while the young girl, Annie, looked almost like her mother.

Later, after a nice dinner and as the children were put to bed by their mother, Olivia and Steven finally got to talk.

"I'm sorry I never visited in the past few years." Said Olivia quietly as she looked down at the steaming mug of tea in her hands,

"It's ok, Liv, I figured after I left they would have put a lot of pressure on you."

And by "they", he meant their parents. She nodded silently,

"I kind of asked for it," She admitted, "They were finally giving me attention, and I ended up digging myself a hole I can't get out of."

Steven cursed softly, "I should have stayed, I should have known they'd take advantage of you, sell you off like you were cattle-"

"Then you wouldn't have been happy, you wouldn't be here with Carrie with a life and a family."

"But where does that leave you?"

Olivia shrugged, "With a mess I made and one that I'll clean up myself. I won't ask you to help me."

Her brother nodded, slowly at first, and eventually he smiled at her, "You should probably get home before the old hag decides to pop in on you and find you're not there." They shared a laugh and a hug, before he escorted back to her car,

"I'll come back, I promise."

"Alright, I'll give you the full tour next time, drive safe Liv."

He watched her as she drove away, eventually becoming a small figure in her rearview mirror.

* * *

_**A/N: So this my first attempt at Batman Fanfiction, featuring Killer Croc. It's a safe assumption to say that I love him, to the point where it's borderline stalker. But this story concentrates more on his past than his present, and will be a tragedy as I have added my own twist as to how he became as detached from humanity as a whole. The version of Killer Croc I'm using is the Arkham Origins model, mostly because many sites state that his mutation hadn't progressed fully in the past.**_

_**This is a pilot of sorts, to test out and see if you guys like this. If so, I can and will continue it to the best of my ability, but keep in mind that I have other obligations besides writing I must attend to first. If you don't like this, then I'll simply continue it to spite you because I like it.**_

_**Anywho, reviews would be deeply appreciated and have a nice day.**_

_**PathlessSpore**_


	2. I Just Wanna Run

The Animal Inside  
Batman Fanfiction  
Killer Croc/Waylon Jones/OC  
Romance/Hurt/Comfort/Tragedy  
Chapter 2  
I Just Wanna Run

_I just wanna run, hide it away_  
_Run because they're chasing me down_  
_I just wanna run, throw it away_  
_Run before they're finding me out_  
_I just wanna run_

_I Just Wanna Run - The Downtown Fiction_

* * *

Olivia gazed out the clear window and onto the busy Gotham streets, the voices of her social friends a mere buzzing in her ear. She was thinking about her brother; it had been a few days since she had first visited him at the carnival outside the city and she had yet to return like she had promised.

She hadn't forgotten already, it was just her parents decided to keep her on a busy schedule. Social calls in the morning, lunches with her supposed "friends" whom she knew talked about her behind her back, and evening parties either at Jackson's mansion or some ridiculous party that lasted well into the morning.

"Olivia?"

The redhead's attention returned to reality with a snap, she glanced at Patricia Adams whose curly blonde hair bounced whenever she moved her head. Blue eyes dug into Olivia's skull seriously, a snake in the guise of a beautiful woman.

"I'm sorry, my thoughts were elsewhere." Apologized Olivia, the rest of the girls giggled and sighed as Alicia, the brunette next to her, nudged her playfully in the arm,

"Thinking about Jackson Sullivan?"

Olivia resisted the urge to roll her eyes, so instead opted to give the best fake laugh she could,

"Maybe…"

The group heaved a collective of dreamy sighs, "You're so lucky," said a woman whose name she never bothered to learn, "Jackson is so handsome."

"_Sure," _thought Olivia sarcastically looking down at her coffee, _"He'd be perfect if he wasn't the largest jerk to walk the planet."_

"Are you going to the Cobblepot party at the Iceberg Lounge tonight?" Ms. Adams inquired,

"Yes," replied Liv, this was third party hosted by the only son of the deceased Mr. and Mrs. Cobblepot. Oswald had just returned from his time in Great Britain with the riches he had earned. The word behind closed doors was he was out to take back his family's name from the Wayne's, whom had bought out the Cobblepot business.

"Mother and father don't want to go," said Alicia, "They say that he should have never come back in the first place; they told me that his parents sent him away because he was such an ugly child, everything a Cobblepot shouldn't be. His poor parents must be turning over in their graves!"

The group laughed, Olivia a little less than the others but that didn't stop her from feeling guilty for laughing in the first place. She had known Oswald before he was sent to boarding school by his mother and father. Her parents had drug her and her brother along to one of the Cobblepot family's outrageous parties.

Young Olivia, tired of watching her brother and parents socialize while others ignored her, had gone exploring through the building to find a teenage Oswald Cobblepot sitting by himself in one of the spare rooms. He looked up at her entrance; he was short, stubby and already balding.

"What, come to laugh at me?" he sneered, Red curls bounced as Liv shook her head,

"No, why are you crying?"

Surprised the boy quickly swiped his hand across his eyes, "I'm not crying."

"It's ok," said Olivia stepped further in and found a chair next to him, "I cry too, my parents don't like me either."

"Really?"

She nodded and smiled at him, who shyly returned the gesture. Suddenly he held out his hand,

"My name is Oswald,"

She grasped his hand gently, "Olivia."

After lunch with the coven of witches, Liv hurried home to change for the party tonight. Logan James, her chauffeur and bodyguard, hired by her parents no less, would be here soon to take her to the Lounge. But she liked Logan, he was less nosy than the others she had gone through and didn't report her daily activities to her parents.

He knew she had gone to see her brother earlier in the week and didn't bat an eyelash. Instead he inquired to his health and was satisfied to hear that he was doing well with himself and his family.

As night descended upon the city and Liv was setting in her last earring, she heard a prompt and firm knock on the door. She smiled and answered to reveal a burly and muscled man with short cropped brown hair,

"Good evening Ms. Branson, the car is waiting for you."

"Thank you, Logan." She said as she retrieved her hand bag and locked her house door, "How are you?"

"Very well, thank you."

"And your wife, I hear she's expecting."

"She's doing fine as well." He replied as they stepped into the nearby elevator and rode it down to the first floor. The large man shadowed her closely, intimidating all from approaching the reluctant heiress.

"Give her my best will you; I'll try to send a gift for her soon."

Logan nodded warmly as he escorted her outside to the waiting silver car. Dutifully he opened the back and made sure she was seated before taking the driver's side. The streets of Gotham were busy this evening and it was sure to make them late.

"I take you've been too busy to see your brother of late?"

Olivia nodded sadly, "Mother insists on filling my schedule with these pointless forays out into the world, and considering how the last few evenings have gone I doubt I'll get to see him tonight."

Her bodyguard nodded in understanding, "If I may, there is a bag near your feet; I told Sarah of your predicament and she took the liberty of packing something for you."

Curious Olivia found the plastic bag and looked in. A change of clothes along with a worn pair of sneakers made her smile,

"Your health is of the upmost importance, Ms. Branson, if you were to become ill this evening I have no choice but to escort you home and see you safely to bed."

Liv looked at his playful eyes in the rearview mirror with a smirk. The car pulled into the VIP parking lot of the Iceberg Lounge, after ensuring that the vehicle was properly parked Logan escorted her inside. Her mother and father greeted her with the warmness of a dead sun, and quickly went to find their next business partner.

Meanwhile, Liv was looking for the man of the hour. She weaved in and around groups, music trickling through the stereo system as her eyes scanned the crowd. Oswald wasn't really that hard of a man to miss; she stepped past a nearby group, her eye sight elsewhere, and almost jumped out of her skin when someone tugged on her hand,

"Now, don't tell me you're going to pass by without saying ello'?"

With a relieved and happy smile she turned to find an amused Oswald Cobblepot smirking at her while puffing on a cigar. He wore an expensive looking tuxedo and clutched a cane in his right hand,

"Just the man I was looking for," Liv said cheerfully as she bent down for a hug, the stout host chuckled as he returned the thoughtful gesture, "It's been so long, Ozzy, how've you been?"

"Not bad, and I 'ear you're doing well for yourself, Ms. Olivia, being the heiress to your father's empire and all."

He cocked a brow at her nervous laugh, and then nodded in understanding. Sweeping an arm out, he led her to a nearby VIP room and strictly instructed the guard standing outside that no one but them were allowed in. He poured them both a glass of Champagne and when she was comfortable on the plush leather seat she related her tale to him.

"Well now," he said thoughtfully afterwards, "Looks like you've dug your own grave on this one."

"I know!" Liv cried out, dropping her head into her hands, "But I can't just walk away, despite everything they've done to me they're still my parents and I still love them; so walking away isn't really an option, but I don't want to be married to that insufferable pig walking around out there. He's terrible!"

"It's your choice, Liv," Said Oswald, "But you're never gonna be happy if you always try and please everyone else, especially your parents."

"I know…" She sat in thought for a long time, feeling sorry for herself, when an idea popped into her head, "Hey Ozzy, do you think you could help me fake being sick?"

The stout man grinned at her.

* * *

"Sweet Jesus Oswald, what did you give me?" Liv gasped in pain and clenched her stomach as it twisted and churned violently. The business man gently escorted her from the kitchen, where he had given her a vial to drink from, and towards the entrance to the Iceberg Lounge. He chuckled at her and soothing patted her on the arm,

"It's just a tonic that'll sour your stomach for about an hour and then wear off; I suggest while you're in your car not to look to the window, it'll make it worse."

She hissed in reply,

"Ms. Branson?" A firm but gentle hand fell upon her shoulder; she looked up at the face of her bodyguard, whose eyes glittered with concern, "Are you well?"

"No, I think it's something I ate…" she muttered as she doubled over in pain; Logan nodded and relieved Oswald of his job with a dip of his head,

"Thank you Mr. Cobblepot, I will take Ms. Branson home promptly."

As the doors swung shut behind them Liv heard the distinct outraged cry of her mother, demanding Oswald tell her what happened to her daughter. The young heiress swore if she had been feeling up to it, she would have laughed.

* * *

"The next time I see Oswald Cobblepot he's a dead man." Threatened Olivia for the umpteenth time. She threw back a cup full of mouth wash, having tossed her stomach more than once on the car ride home. Logan gave her an amused huff from the living room, where he hovered near the front door.

"Are you sure you want me to go home? I'd feel better if I accompanied you to the Gotham Carnival Grounds just in case-"

"Logan," said Liv sternly as she spit out the wash and wiped her mouth. She walked into her bedroom to change and came out a few minutes later ready to go, "Go home to your wife, I'll be fine."

He gazed at her uncertainly, but eventually he gave in and bid her a good night before leaving. Before departing herself she made sure she grabbed her hand bag, car keys, and turned off her phone and lights, and closed her front door with a firm click.

* * *

_**A/N: Introducing a few more characters into the story, some are important, others a little less so. Let me know what you guys think with some lovely reviews. Constructive Criticism please;**_

_**Riksie-Dixie: Thanks for the review and the tip about the summary, as you can see it's been promptly changed.**_

_**Gatorkid509: Glad you like the story so far!  
**_

_**FoxDemon303: So glad you've enjoyed the first chapter, I know there hasn't been much of Croc in these last two chapters, but I promise you he's gonna come up soon and I do hope you like the way they meet. (Totally writing that part like right now, I think it's funny and adorable)**_

_**PathlessSpore**_


	3. Beautiful Stranger

The Animal Inside  
Batman Fanfiction  
Killer Croc/Waylon Jones/OC  
Romance/Hurt/Comfort/Tragedy  
Chapter 3  
Beautiful Stranger

_If I'm smart then I'll run away_  
_but I'm not so I guess I'll stay_  
_Heaven forbid_  
_I'll take my chance on a beautiful stranger_

_Beautiful Stranger - Madonna _

* * *

The fairgrounds were busy this evening; it was running towards the nighttime hours where the sun was almost gone beow the horizon. The Gotham Fairgrounds were bathed in a faint gold light that reflected of the murky waters and trees. Olivia managed to park her car in the back of the lot and trekked her way to the gates. After paying her way in she clutched her purse ever closer to her as she found her way back to Buck. He gave her a polite nod and ordered a nearby worker to retrieve her brother.

"And how are you this evening, Miss Olivia?" Asked the bouncer politely as they waited, Liv smiled at him and shrugged,

"I'm okay; just a bit tired is all."

They chatted a bit before a familiar, yet greasy face turned the nearby corner and pulled into a back breaking hug. Liv chuckled as he covered her cheeks with grime,

"What have you been up to?" she asked as she wiped off some of the filth from his forehead, Steve linked arms with her and started walking,

"Ferris Wheel needed some fine tuning is all, Carrie'll have me clean it off before supper. You're just in time though, most of the kids'll be packing up and going home soon; the more fun attractions for adults open up just after sundown."

"Sounds like fun, just like when we were little?"

Steven chuckled, "I wish, unfortunately I have to work one of the stands tonight and I'm not comfortable letting you roam by yourself."

They came upon the Ferris Wheel as Olivia gave her brother a stern gaze,

"Steven I know it's been a few years since we've last seen each other, but I can take care of myself."

"Oh really," snarked her brother sarcastically, he reached a hand to her ears and tugged on the jewelry hanging there. She cringed, "Any person here would jump at the chance to rip those out and the pearl necklace you've forgotten to take off."

"That doesn't mean—"

"Have you taken self defense classes, I can guarantee that some creep would love to catch you behind one of the stalls, and you're making yourself an even bigger target by carrying around probably one of the most expensive purses I've ever laid my eyes on. Are you crazy?"

Olivia stuttered, unused to being chewed out so sternly by her own brother. She flicked her eyes away in shame as Steve sighed through his nose, "How much money did you bring with you?"

"Just enough to pay my way in."

He nodded, "Well that's something, here," he grabbed her bag and slung it over his shoulder, "We're going to go put this in my trailer and I'll show you around okay. But if you plan on sticking around later I'm gonna have to find someone to tag along with you."

Olivia didn't appreciate being treated like such a child, but she knew her brother was right. Knowing her luck somebody would try to steal from her, or trap her somewhere dark and rape her. Her brother was only looking out for her safety and she found she couldn't be mad at him for that.

Carrie greeted her warmly and dutifully hid her purse somewhere safe in the house along with Liv's jewelry. Her niece and nephew showered her again with small gifts before being shooed off by their mother.

Afterwards, Steven showed her around. He introduced her to a few of the people he knew. They talked for a while, though she revealed nothing about her personal life out of caution. Dinner was served shortly afterwards where she met more of her brother's friends and was given the best food across the states.

She tagged along with her brother around the grounds as he fixed up a few machines and checked upon the other attractions. She smiled as he worked, talking to her about what he was doing. He was enjoying himself and obviously happy; she was glad he had found his path in life.

Now only if she could find hers.

The pair was walking down the entertainment lane, passing sideshows where the crowd gasped in wonder. Liv paused at one, the sign catching her eye. It was worn out but she could make out the words,

"_**The infamous Killer Croc!"**_

Her brother noticed her looking and shrugged, "His name is Waylon Jones; he's been working here longer than I have. He's a little hard to get along with, especially with that attitude of his, but he's an okay guy."

"Why do they call him Killer Croc?"

Steven instantly fell into an uncomfortable silence earning him a concerned glance from his sister. He chose not to answer her, instead led her to other attractions around the fair. The lights bathed the stands in a low and gritty glow as she heard people laugh and squeal with delight. Most of the kids were gone now, leaving the teenagers and adults to the older themed attractions. As they strode further down the street Liv looked back at the worn sign, wondering why her brother refused to talk of the Killer Croc.

* * *

"You sure you want to stay?" Steven had taken them back to the trailer where Carrie was currently dressing for her show. Liv, sitting on their couch, nodded enthusiastically. Her brother heaved a heavy sigh and rubbed the bridge of his nose, "Alright, I'll see if I can find someone to tag along with you."

"Why not Waylon Jones?" advised Carrie as she came from the bedroom wearing a bright red and gold leotard with her hair thrown into a ponytail. Steven rolled his eyes,

"I don't really –"

"Steven James Branson don't you dare," warned his wife, placing her hands on her hips, "Just because he's different doesn't give you the right to judge him."

Her brother threw his arms up in defense, his face paling as Carrie glared at him, "Sweetheart I wasn't judging him, Jones is a good guy, but—"

"But what, Steven?" she said in a low and dangerous tone. Steve swallowed and finally deflated,

"Fine, I'll go ask, he's not going to like it."

"Just tell Waylon I sent you to him." Carrie's features softened as she turned to Olivia, who sat quietly albeit nervously as well, and smiled, "Waylon is a good man, Liv, I just have to ask you not to stare; he doesn't like it when people stare."

"Ok." Liv replied confusedly; she bid farewell to the young acrobat and followed her brother out of the house. It took them a while to track down Waylon; a young performer saw him entering the recreation tent for the carnival workers and directed them there. The pair pushed through the growing crowd as she struggled to keep herself within arm's distance of her brother.

The tent the employees used for rest was large and kept at the back of the area. Cables stretched along the floor, powering lights and a few T.V.'s. Tables and chairs allowed large groups to sit together and play card games while they drank. One such group had a disgustingly portly man sitting at its head; he was large with a potbelly that stuck out from his stained wife-beater. He had a receding hair line of ugly greasy brown hair and beady black eyes.

He was surrounded by a group of men varying in weight and size. They laughed when he laughed, drank he drank, and did what most followers did trying to please their master.

As she and Steven passed their table on their way to the back the tent, the portly man's attention landed on her. She looked away from him as her stomached dropped and her throat went dry. She knew that if she glanced over she wouldn't like the adulterous stare he was giving her.

And Steven knew it too.

Instantly he stepped back and put himself between Liv and the man, promptly ignoring him as he steered her away,

"Stay away from him," he warned softly; Liv scoffed,

"No kidding, I'm not stupid."

When they reached the back it was littered with exercise equipment. A few of the more muscled men were working out but Steven made a beeline straight for the one doing bench presses. She couldn't see him well for lights didn't reach quite this far back, but she could tell he was _big_ guy. He was easily lifting over four hundred pounds from his thick neck, straight into the air, and back again.

"Branson," he said in a deep growl, he didn't sound at all winded despite the fact that he was lifting weights,

"Jones," replied Steven as he came up to the man and observed. Liv hovered a few feet away, still trying to get a good look at Waylon Jones,

"What do you want?"

"A favor."

Waylon paused his lift and turned his eyes to Steve, Liv swore they almost shimmered in the dark, a bestial and cunning gold. His skin looked different, but without a proper light she really couldn't tell why. The large man waited almost impatiently for her brother to ask,

"Could look after someone for me?"

Jones snorted and resumed his workout, "Look, if it's one of your brats get Nan to do it, I ain't interested."

"It's not my children, alright, Carrie said—"

"Shit, is this one of your wife's attempts to hook me up with someone? I already told her—"

"Shut up, Jones," Snapped Steven, "I just need you to look after my kid sister."

"What?"

Liv jumped as Waylon all but threw the weights down, and as he sat up her eyes bugled. Forget big, he was _huge!_ Sitting down he reached well over six feet, and not to mention how bulky and broad shouldered he was. She met his eyes and she was right when she assumed that they shone in the dark. They were yellowish in color, staring her down like predator would prey.

Liv swallowed nervously as he pushed himself up and stepped forward. His heavy steps made the ground thud with his every move, and she craned his neck up to look at him as he strode into better light.

The mere sight of him nearly knocked the wind out of her.

For he was covered, from head to toe, in varying shades of green scales; his mouth was set into a sneer, a few of his fang like teeth poking out like white knives. He glared down at her as the two observed each other in deathly silence

"_I just have to ask you not to stare; he doesn't like it when people stare."_

Then, surprising herself as well as him, she stuck out her hand and said cheerfully

"Hi, I'm Olivia."

* * *

_**A/N: This is what happens when you work on two chapters at the same time, you get one done and pop out the other one straight after. We've finally introduced Waylon into the story and to Olivia. Their first meeting should be interesting huh?**_

_**Riksie-Dixie: Thanks for the review, and yes this story does take place Pre-Arkham Origins, as I stated in the Author's Note in the first chapter I would be concentrating on Waylon's past than his present.**_

_**Gatorkid509: Of course I added the Penguin, it's not a Batman story unless I add a few of the Villains. Besides it is stated that Croc and Penguin know each other, while stories of their friendship vary source to source.**_

_**FoxDemon303: Oh, there's always time to be a rebel, and I did have fun writing this chapter.**_

_**So next chapter I'll try and concentrate more on Croc's view of Liv. Also, from this point on I have to warn you there may be some cussing, since Croc isn't Croc unless he has a foul mouth. So a change in the ratings may be in the future for language purposes.**_

_**Please review with CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM, and thanks to all the favs and alerts I've been given.**_

_**PathlessSpore**_


	4. Come With Me Now

The Animal Inside  
Batman Fanfiction  
Waylon Jones/Killer Croc/OC  
Romance/Hurt/Comfort/Tragedy  
Chapter 4  
Come With Me Now

_Afraid to lose control_  
_And caught up in this world_  
_I've wasted time, I've wasted breath_  
_I think I've thought myself to death_

_Come With Me Now - Kongos_

* * *

She was tiny thing, even compared to normal people. Waylon eyed her petite and pale hand, held out for him to take as she gazed expectantly at him. It was safe to say he was surprised, though he hid it well. She had taken one good look at him and instead of screaming or running away like everyone else did she introduced herself with a cheerful smile.

She had to be some special kind of stupid.

"You're kidding me, right?" Waylon snapped, glaring over his shoulder towards her brother. Steven rolled his eyes and shook his head,

"Look Jones, it'll only be for the night—"

"No." replied Jones shortly, turning away to resume his workout.

Or would have if he hadn't been kicked in the leg; stunned he whipped his head back around to the tiny woman, her face set into an indignant frown with her arms crossed,

"The general rule of thumb is if someone introduces themselves it's polite to do it back. You know, so you don't appear rude."

Waylon snarled angrily, twisting back so he could bend down,

"You got a death wish, broad?"

"Number one," she said calmly, "I will not stand for being called a "Broad, "Slut, "Whore" or whatever other fine words you have written in your dictionary. My name is Olivia, "Liv" if you really want to give me a nickname, but if you ever call me "Olli" I will hurt you. As for your question: No I don't have a death wish. Having a death wish would imply that I am insane, and I like to believe I'm in good mental health."

Jones silent for a long time; they stared at each other, him glaring while she eyed him defiantly with emerald green daggers. A few nearby people had turned to watch as Jones finally stood, turned to Steven and scoffed,

"Not only "no", but fuck no."

Steven growled in his throat, glared at him, and stood ready to argue. Before anyone could do anything, however, another small figure stepped in. Waylon recognized the bright orange and red suit and the long blonde hair. Carrie Branson glanced at the two men disapprovingly, arms crossed with a frown on her face.

He liked Carrie; she had been working here nearly as long as he had. When Becky, the little blind girl whom he had meet while on the run, introduced him to his new family Carrie had been of the few "Normal" people to walk up and say hello.

Carrie gave her husband a stern look before turning her eyes upwards to Waylon. The large man flicked his eyes away as she shook her head,

"It's just for a night, Waylon." She said softly, he shrugged still not looking the acrobat in the eye, "Liv is a nice girl, but she doesn't know how to defend herself if something happens. And with the way James Muscovy was just looking at her something's bound to. Please, Waylon."

He hated when Carrie appealed to him in that pleading tone of hers.

Jones glanced over at Steve's kid sister, who still stood there glaring at him. A short little shit; if James and his crew of miscreants did jump her she wouldn't stand a chance, even with all that attitude of hers.

Finally he gave a growling sigh and relented to Branson's wife,

"Fine." He muttered, not at all thrilled at the idea of babysitting a grown woman. Carrie gave him her sweet smile and nodded. Steven, who had watched the exchange visibly relaxed. Jones pointed a clawed finger at him, "You owe me, Branson." He snarled,

"Yeah, yeah…" he muttered as he took his sister aside,

"Seriously?" she asked in annoyance, not even bothering to lower her voice,

"Look I told you he's a little difficult to get along with; he doesn't trust a lot of people because they usually make fun of his condition-"

"He doesn't know a thing about me; I just tried being pleasant and he talked to me like I was trash!"

"I'm right fucking here…" snarled Waylon, Steve's sister rounded on him in an instant,

"I know! Why do you think I'm not bothering to lower my tone?"

That's it!

Waylon's hand snatched out to grasp her by the back of her neck and lifted her up until she was eye level. Steven shouted at him crossly as his sister struggled against him, a string on non-curses leaving her mouth,

"Listen here, brat," he snapped, earning him her attention, "I'm stuck with you because your sister in law asked nicely, so don't get all high and mighty with me!"

She fell silent and glared at him; when he was sure she wasn't going to cause more trouble he dropped her back onto her feet. With a huff she gave her brother a glower before turning to stalk out of the tent.

"You ever manhandle my sister again, Jones," threatened Steven, his face set into an ugly snarl, "I'll make a wallet out of your hide."

"I'd like to see you try." Taunted Waylon,

"Boys!" Carrie, who was more than happy to let Waylon harp on her sister in law, drew the line right then and there. She looked pointedly at her husband, who shrank back nervously, "You have a stand to look after." She advised dangerously, and she watched as he beat a hasty retreat. She then turned to Waylon, a brow cocked,

"You don't have to hover over her shoulder," she said, "Just stay back and make sure no one tries anything funny." She gave him a wave goodbye and turned to walk away; she paused mid-stride for a moment and twisted her head around to glance at him,

"And Waylon," she said sweetly, "If you ever manhandle my sister in law again, I'll make a wallet out of your hide."

Jones said nothing as she walked away; the difference between Steven and his wife was that he _knew _Carrie would go through with her threat.

* * *

Olivia had never felt so insulted in her life!

She fumed furiously through the carnival passing the Main Tent that was the center of the attraction. Without thinking she turned down the Sideshow Lane and continued walking, furious at being treated so rudely. Gaudy lights decorated the different stands as people tried to sell their games as she stalked down the dirt lane.

Just because people made fun of his appearance didn't mean she was the same. He had no right to treat her the way he did.

Olivia shook herself out of her rage, just because Waylon Jones had been unimaginably rude to her didn't mean it had to ruin her night. So she decided to focus on having fun instead. For the first hour she spent time at the sideshows watching a pair of performers; they were a fire-eater and a sword swallower and were very accomplished at their craft.

Eventually, Olivia managed to find herself among the many games offered by the Carnival. A man at a nearby stall managed to coerce her into try out her throwing arm against a stack of bottles. After about the fifth try he gave her a prize out of pity.

"Here," said the man handing her a stuffed owl, "A pretty bird for the pretty lady." She thanked him and continued on her way.

Liv, after a few minutes of walking up and down the different lanes, managed to find the food courts. Her stomach grumbled with slight hunger pangs at the delicious smells. There was so much she didn't know what to get.

She had spent a few moments of pursing when a cold shiver ran down her spine and the hairs on her neck stood on end.

Swallowing she craned her head around and her stomach dropped when she saw that potbellied man from earlier.

James Muscovy if she remembered correctly, and he was headed straight for her, a nasty look in his eyes as his group of men followed close behind.

"Ma'm?"

Liv jumped as the man who ran the food stand gazed quizzically at her. She felt someone step too close behind her as she tried to think. She nearly wretched at the foul odor this man gave off,

"Um," her eyes darted wildly around the area, looking desperately for a way out. Then she saw him, to her right coming down from the auction houses, Waylon Jones lumbered into view. Hastily Liv pulled out her money, grabbed two caramel apples, and told the flustered worker,

"Keep the change!"

She all but ran towards Jones, feeling that man bearing down upon her.

* * *

Finding one little brat in a carnival full of people was going to be a lot harder than he thought. Her scent, a mix between lavender and some expensive perfume, was instantly lost the moment she disappeared into the crowd. He tracked her through Sideshow Lane and noted that her scent lingered here for a while before moving on. Chris, the man who ran the bottle toss game where she had stopped at, told Jones that she had just been there and had gone wandering off down the way.

With an irritated sigh somewhere between a hiss and a growl he followed after her.

Steven's sister, Olivia if he recalled, was a real piece of work; the little redhead had a fearless attitude a mile long. To outright kick _him_ in the leg because he'd ignored her...

That took guts, everyone was usually too afraid to pick a fight with him.

He spent a good fifteen minutes trying to follow her smell; people who didn't work here quickly got out of his way with terrified gasps. He promptly ignored them trying to focus on the lavender trail Olivia had left in her wake mixed with the sweat, booze, and general stink of the carnival.

When he couldn't find her at the auction houses he went for the food court, thinking she might have gotten hungry. He lumbered around the corner of a stall, barely there for a minute before he saw her come running up to him.

He prepared a nasty remark, but he stopped short when he noticed she was shaking from head to toe. Her green eyes were wide with terror as she hurriedly thrust out one of the candy apples she held

"Please take it, and tell me he's gone."

Waylon's eyes flicked up then; James Muscovy watched them a few feet away. That little potbellied bastard scowled at Jones who returned it in kind with one of his own. Then, with one last lustful look at Olivia he and his group disappeared.

Shit, it good thing he'd come along when he did.

"He's gone," he said, she visibly relaxed, a shaky sigh of relief escaping her lips. She gazed up at him then,

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it," he snapped sarcastically, "I mean really, don't ever mention it to anyone."

She scoffed at him, green eyes narrowing, "What is your problem?! I have been nothing but nice to you and you treat me like I'm dirt beneath your feet."

"Don't fuck with me," Said Jones as he sat back on his haunches, getting as close to eye level as he possibly could, "It's just an act and you know it."

No one normal was ever nice without wanting something in return. It was a lesson he'd learned early on in his childhood, people only used him because he was terrifying and ugly to look at. When they were done with him they tossed him aside and called him a monster. He had met very few people who were the opposite, and even then he didn't trust them.

"You don't know a damn thing about me," she snarled back at him,

"And I don't want to."

She stuck her nose up at him then, "Fine," she said, "Be that way." And without so much as a backwards glance she took her spare candy apple and tossed it into the trash and stalked away. Waylon was taken aback; those things were nearly five bucks a pop, only a stupid person would throw away that much money especially with the recession.

"Hold on," he called as he stood; it only took him a few long strides to reach her, "Where do you get the money to throw shit away like that?"

"I thought you didn't want to know anything about me?"

Her snotty reply made him growl low in his chest, but he asked for that retort.

For the rest of the night, just as he promised, he tailed her like a huge shadow. They ignored each other for the most part, taking care not to look the other in the eye. She spent most of her night playing the various games trying to win herself a prize and failing because of her utter lack of skill or luck. But she didn't seem bothered by it. Around midnight she stopped off back at Steven's trailer near the back of the grounds, grabbed her stuff and bid her family goodbye.

Relieved that she was finally leaving, Jones started to walk away until he felt someone kick him in the leg for the second goddamn time tonight. With a snarl he spun back around to snap only to find Olivia smirking at him,

"I just wanted to say thanks again," she said; why the fuck was she even talking to him, he'd but nothing but an ass to her all night, she'd even said it herself more or less, "but I also wanted to inform you since the circus is staying in town for another week or two I'll be around for quite a bit, so I guess I'll see you again Waylon Jones."

She smiled at him, a mischievous glint in her green eyes as gave him a wave goodbye and disappeared into the crowd.

Jones stood there for a long moment.

Did she just threaten him?

He snorted as he tried to fight the smile that twitched at his mouth.

She really was a redheaded little shit…

* * *

_**A/N:**_

_**It is so hard to write in Waylon's point of view it's not really even remotely funny. But I gave it my best shot so I'm going to really need your CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM on this one.**_

_**Speaking of which:**_

_**TheForgottenSheikah (Formerly known as FoxDemon303): Thanks for the review; I tried to rectify my lack of details of the Circus in this chapter, so I hope I did better.**_

_**PaleaoPanthalassa: Thanks so much for your review and the information, I read up on Croc's story and I'll try to rectify any mistakes in the future without utterly destroying what I've written so far. I hope this doesn't turn you off from the story. This is what I get for asking my boyfriend, a huge DC fan by the way, about the Killer Croc. He knew the old stories, not Arkham Unhinged. Thank you for the help!**_

_**DarkWolf1121: I hope this chapter lived up to your expectations.**_

_**ChthonicAsylum: thanks for the review, I usually try to flesh out my characters during the story and try to make them seem like real people.**_

_**And thanks to those who added this to their favorites list and their alerts.**_

_**PathlessSpore**_


	5. Anything But Ordinary

The Animal Inside  
Batman Fanfiction  
Killer Croc/Waylon Jones/OC  
Romance/Hurt/Comfort/Tragedy  
Chapter 5  
Anything But Ordinary

_Sometimes I get so weird_  
_I even freak myself out_  
_I laugh my self to sleep_  
_It's my lullaby_

_Anything But Ordinary - Avril Lavigne_

* * *

Olivia's mother was really starting to be a thorn in her side. Ever since her "episode" at Oswald's party she absolutely refused to leave her daughters side, screening food for potential risks. Her mother was utterly convinced that someone had tried to poison her precious daughter in order to ruin the Branson Empire. Olivia didn't bother to point out the fact they weren't one of the richest families in Gotham, it was better to let her mother have her delusions of paradise and fame.

"Really Olivia," Amanda chided sternly, eyeing the red curtains over the windows that looked down at the street, "You should change those drapes; it's such a horrible color." Liv's mother sat on her expensive white couch, legs crossed as she waited for her tea almost impatiently. When the young heiress returned with two steaming hot cups she settled down on the opposite end of the sofa.

"You are a lady, Olivia Branson," said Amanda as she stirred her tea carefully, eyeing her daughter with distaste, "You should have servants doing this mundane tasks for you; that's what they're for after all."

Olivia had to resist the huge urge to roll her eyes, "I like feeling accomplished, mother," she said tiredly, "Besides, I have Logan when I truly do require something."

"Really, and just where is this bodyguard your father and I hired?"

Liv cringed, "His wife, who is expecting, had her first doctor's appointment today. I told Logan to attend; it is his first child after all."

"Olivia Branson!" cried her mother, a hand resting on her heart as a scandalized look flashed across her face, "How dare you, your father and I pay good money for him to stick to your side. I will be having a stern talk with this man—"

Olivia slammed her tea cup down upon her coffee table. Amanda jumped, spilling her drink over her lap, "That is enough, Mother," Liv said hotly, "Logan may have been hired by you but as far as I am concerned he is under my employ, therefore you will not threaten him!"

"Olivia Maria Branson!"

Liv stood and pointed to the door, "I think you should leave mother." She advised sternly, "before I have the building security throw you out."

"You wouldn't." Amanda gasped,

"Just try me." Threatened the young woman; her mother sniffed with disdain and stuck up her nose,

"Very well," she dabbed up the mess on her skirt as best she could before moving. She opened the door and before slamming it behind her she turned to gaze nastily at her daughter, "We will be attending a gala held by the Sullivan's this Saturday, you will be going Olivia. Whether you like it or not."

When she was gone Liv deflated; she didn't know where that burst of defiant energy came from but she knew she was going to be in serious trouble for her outburst.

"_Just leave"_ Said a voice in the back of her mind as she tried to pick up the mess on her couch, _"They don't love you, and certainly won't miss you if you're gone."_

"_That's not true…" _replied a more timid tone, _"Your parents do love you; they just don't know how to express it well. Besides, what will happen to them if you just go? They're depending on you."_

"_For what? Being their damn babymaker?!" _Snapped the stern voice,

"_You did kind of ask for it; you took advantage of them after all."_

Live sighed as she cleaned up the last of the mess, "Don't acknowledge the voices in your head Liv," she advised softly setting the tea cups to dry. She sighed as she wiped off her hands; without Logan the house was eerily quiet, he usually sat in the kitchen drinking black sugarless coffee and reading a novel or working on a book of his own. He was a very cultured gentleman and a good friend to have around.

But as it were, he was gone and she was left to her own devices.

She glanced at her clock as she walked into her lavish living room; it was two in the afternoon. She supposed she could go visit her brother again, but she wondered if she would be forced to have Waylon Jones as a body guard again.

She scowled without meaning to; she truly didn't know what his problem was.

Well that wasn't entirely true, he was different and not in the way most people liked to look at. He stood over seven feet tall, bulky and broad shouldered with muscles that would make a professional lifter envious.

But it was his skin that made him defensive.

Liv pictured him in her mind, those bestial eyes glaring at her in the dark, as his green and rough scale like skin reflected in the gaudy carnival lights. They were two toned colors of green, the lighter covering his toned chest while the darker coated the rest. She imagined that mouth of his set into his snarl, a few of his knife like fangs poking out.

And then she took a good look at herself.

She hadn't been the nicest to him; maybe at first but after he shot down her greeting she had turned into quite a terrible person. Liv didn't think for a moment he was mean because he didn't want to be hurt or made fun of. She didn't think that his snarky attitude was just a defense mechanism against the teasing he'd endured and could possibly endure.

She felt ashamed.

Without meaning to she had proven to him his point.

Suddenly, with determination, Liv stalked off to her bedroom to change. She was going to convince Waylon Jones that she was a good person and worthy of his trust.

"_Yeah?" _Asked the snide voice in her head, _"And how are you going to do that? As far as first impressions go you didn't really make a good one._"

"I'll figure that out when I get there." She muttered as she grabbed her purse and keys, shutting the door with a firm snap.

* * *

Waylon swiped his hand across his brow, the sun shining in his eyes. He hated it when he was forced to work when it was so bright out; it hurt his eyes and gave him a killer headache. But the previous night the Ferris Wheel suffered mechanical problems and was unfortunately forced to shut down for the remainder of their stay in Gotham. He and four other men were currently taking it down in the blistering heat, all of them grumbling for a break.

"Are you guys thirsty?" called a soft voice, Waylon looked up and smiled as Becky, a small blonde girl trotted over to the men carefully, balancing a tray of lemonade in her hands. The workers showered her with praise, ruffling her hair as they took their share of drinks.

"Are you thirsty, Waylon?"

He didn't know how she knew he was there; he'd asked once and she simply smiled at him and said,

"_I can tell you because you have a big warm presence, I always feel safe when you're around."_

"Thanks, Becky." She gazed at him with listless milky eyes almost beaming with pride.

"After you're done do you want to go exploring with me?"

Waylon glanced around, "There ain't anything but swamp for miles, Becky."

"I don't care, as long as I get to be with you."

She melted his heart from the moment he stumbled upon her picking flowers in the warm sun. She must have heard him coming because when he burst from the foliage to drink from the lake she hadn't bat an eyelash,

"_Sorry," he muttered, "Didn't see you there."_

"_Neither did I." she replied._

They had been nearly inseparable ever since she had led him here. She gazed towards him expectantly, waiting ever so patiently for his answer. Waylon snorted,

"Alright fine, you win. Let me finish up here and I'll come and get you."

"Okay, see you soon!" she called happily as she skipped away.

Work seemed to fly by quicker now that he had something to look forward too. Within the next hour and a half they had finally disassembled the Ferris Wheel and packed it away. After washing up he lumbered off to find Becky.

She was waiting with Nan, an old woman who'd been living here for as long as anyone could remember. She usually cared for the children while their parents were busy, and she took her job very seriously.

"I'm here for Becky, Nan." He said shortly, the old crone looked up at him and very clearly gave him the stink eye. He had to repeat to himself over and over that she was only like this because she cared for the children, but it still didn't make him feel any better.

"Be careful now, Becky." She advised sternly, and watched as the two walked away hand in hand. He garnered a few stares on their way out of the gates, but he managed to ignore them with his little blonde companion at his side,

"I heard you were with a girl a few nights ago." She said slyly, Waylon nearly jumped at the implications her tone implied,

"Yeah, and where'd you hear that?"

"From Nan, she said you were walking around with a girl." Jones made a mental note to lay into that old bat later. So caught up in his own thoughts he didn't hear what Becky said next,

"What?"

"Was she pretty?" He was stunned by the question. Mistaking his silence for embarrassment, the child started to laugh, "She must have been if you're so speechless."

"Yeah, yeah…" he muttered. Was she pretty? Waylon rubbed the back of his neck; he supposed being the tiny thing she was. Vibrant green eyes blazing in defiance as her long red curls bounced over her shoulders, those lips of hers pulled into a playful smirk. He shook his head violently to rid himself of thoughts of her, but Becky did little to help.

"What was her name?"

"Olivia."

Then, just as they were nearing the gates the crowd parted and there she stood as if she'd been called. She wore a pair of tattered old jeans with a black and white graphic tee. Their eyes locked, but instead of that distasteful glare he'd received before she looked genuinely pleased to see him.

"Hi Waylon," she called happily as she came up to greet him, she noticed his companion and dropped down to greet her as well, "Hi there!"

"Hi, I'm Becky." Then with a confused look Becky nudged him in the leg, "She said hello to you, why don't you say hi back?"

"Hi, Olivia…" he muttered,

"Wow, you're Olivia?! We were just talking about you!"

Liv flashed those eyes of hers up at him earning her one of his snarls, "Oh really, I hope he was telling good things about me."

"Uh huh, we were just going to go exploring in the swamp, do you want to come with?"

"Becky, I don't think she wants to—" Waylon cut in, but Olivia shook her head and smiled,

"I'd love too, but would you mind if I dropped off my purse first? I don't want to lose it in the swamp."

Becky nodded enthusiastically and with that Liv took off running down the path. Upset, Waylon glanced down at the blind child,

"What was that for?"

The little girl looked hurtfully at him, "I just thought it would be fun if more people came along. I'm sorry Waylon; I didn't mean to make you mad."

"You didn't make me mad; you just surprised me is all."

She hugged his leg then, her tiny arms unable to wrap around him, "We're gonna have so much fun," she said cheerfully, "Will you describe everything you see to me?"

Jones's ears perked at the sound of running feet. He looked up to see Olivia coming back to them, winded with an excited expression, "I'll try my best."

"I'm all ready." Liv said as she tried to catch her breath. Becky clasped his large hand in hers; grasping it tightly as if she was afraid he'd leave. He smirked at her and gently led the trio out of the gates and into the wilderness.

* * *

_**A/N: I'm trying to take it slow and easy, draw out their moments together before the Carnival has to leave for another year. Thanks so much for the reviews and the favs and alerts; they mean so much to me when I see more and more of them. I do hope you guys keep reading!**_

_**TheForgotteSheikah: I'm glad you liked the Chapter! James was supposed to scare you, he's a creepy perv and surprisingly important to Liv and Waylon's relationship further along the story line.**_

_**Darkwolf1121: I'm so glad the last chapter lived up to your expectations and I myself look forward to seeing who caves first. There are so many different ways to go about the situation. BTW, the word ass-holery is now my new favorite word, for that I thank you!**_

_**SwirlyPasta: Yeah, I'm not looking forward to writing some parts of the story either, I've grown quite attached to the duo despite the fact I'm only five chapters in. I do hope you'll stick around till the end.**_

_**PalaeoPanthalassa: I actually enjoy writing Jones like this as well. I figured early on he wouldn't have his whole hatred for humanity attitude, at least not before Becky and the rest of his attachments died. And don't be sorry about your reviews, I asked for constructive criticism and you gave me exactly what I was looking for. The good author is always looking for ways to improve, and you helped me immensely by pointing me towards the Arkham Unhinged series. So thank you so much for your Constructive Criticism. And a funny thing, I read your review just as I was writing Becky into this chapter. The little sweetie is going to be around more often from now on.**_

_**Thanks so much for your views, reviews, and such. I hope you'll leave some more CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM in the nice box below, and have a great day!**_

_**PathlessSpore**_


	6. Paradise

The Animal Inside  
Batman Fanfiction  
Killer Croc/Waylon Jones/OC  
Romance/Hurt/Comfort/Tragedy  
Chapter 6  
Paradise

_When she was just a girl_  
_She expected the world_  
_But it flew away from her reach_  
_So she ran away in her sleep_  
_Dreamed of paradise_

_Paradise - Coldplay_

* * *

The late afternoon sun made it a wonderful day to go tromping through the swamp. They had traveled through much of the forest surrounding the Carnival and had stopped near a lake to take a rest. Dragonflies and other critters skirted atop the pond's surface as fish tried to catch a meal. Olivia walked near the water's edge with her sneakers and socks off. The sand squished between her toes delightfully as she looked up and smiled.

Waylon sat in the open field nearby with Becky in his lap. He looked down at her as he talked, a clawed finger playing with her hair. He was describing their surroundings to her as best he could; using her other sense to make up for her lack of sight. And she clung to him as a child would to their father, her only anchor in a world of darkness.

Waylon's eyes snapped up to meet hers. She gazed into the graceful and deadly yellow for a moment before she smiled and waved. He gave her an unfathomable look as if he couldn't understand her sudden change in attitude. His attention returned to Becky as Liv kept walking; eventually she sat down to stick her feet in the cool water, sighing as she leaned back her head and closed her eyes.

She didn't know how much time had passed. She could have sat here for hours on end and wouldn't have a care in the world. But Waylon's heavy footsteps caught her attention and she opened eyes to see him carrying Becky over. Gently, he sat her down next to Liv as he settled on her other side,

"Do you like it out here, Olivia?"

The blonde girl reached out a wary hand towards her; figuring she wanted to touch her, Liv reached out her own and they clasped fingers. Becky spent some time feeling out her hand,

"Yeah, I do. It feels nice to do this again."

"You like to go exploring?"

"When I was little," explained Liv as she brushed some of Becky's hair out of her face, "My brother and I used to go out into the forest behind our parent's villa and be gone for hours and hours."

* * *

Jones's gaze narrowed on Olivia as she and Becky talked,

"_My brother and I used to go out into the forest behind our parent's villa…"_

That explained a lot.

She was a rich kid from Gotham's upper city, and that meant her brother was too. Why the hell was a man like Branson working for the circus when he could have had the easy life? Liv's gaze flicked up to meet his; she knew she'd slipped and given herself away, but her eyes begged him to stay silent as she subtly shook her head.

Not here, and he wasn't to say a word to anyone until told otherwise.

So he let it be, at least for now.

When the time came for them to head back they seemed to do so almost reluctantly. Becky and Olivia were still talking, though the girl had to look down from Waylon's shoulders. She happily clung to him as the redhead smiled at him teasingly that earned her earned her quite the scowl.

Why was she acting differently? A few nights ago she couldn't stand the sight of him.

Now she walked beside him as if the two had been lifelong friends.

The sun was just setting over the horizon by the time they walked through the gates. Dinner was just being served in the living area and as soon as she spied her brother Olivia bade the two goodbye and joined her family. Waylon took Becky to sit with the rest of sideshow freaks.

It was a nice time with all the laughing and talking. Waylon felt content to sit with the people he had learned to call family. When they looked at him they didn't see a monster and they didn't judge him, they accepted him for all his attitude and appearance and made him one of their own.

For that he was truly thankful to the little girl who had led him here and given him a second chance at life.

Afterward it was time for the littler children to go to bed. Nan swept by and relieved him of Becky. She kissed him on the cheek before leaving hand in hand with the old crone.

Waylon rubbed the back of his neck and sighed; he had no show scheduled for tonight so he figured he might go to the Rec tent for a workout. Just as he was about to sit up and stand he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned to find Olivia standing at his side with her hands behind her back,

"Want to go for a walk?" she asked, he looked at her for a moment. Could she have possibly changed her attitude in such a short time?

He highly doubted it.

So he snorted with derision and turned away, "Get the hell out of my face." He saw her bite her lip as she frowned, like she was fighting back some snarky comment. It almost made Waylon smirk; she was trying to hold it back, for whatever odd reason. He knew she hadn't changed; deep inside he knew she was still that bitch he'd pegged her to be.

No one ever changed.

"Well, whether you like it or not, I'm not leaving," She said firmly, planting herself next to him, "So it looks like you're just going to have to make a little conversation."

Well, shit….

"I have nothing to say to you."

Why was she being so stubborn? He was giving her a chance to just give up and walk away, but she sat there next to him trying to get him to talk. Eventually she sighed,

"Look, I wanted to apologize for my less than stellar behavior the other night; I was unimaginably rude when we first met and I feel bad about it."

Wait, what?

Did he…?

Did he just get an apology?

Waylon didn't know what to do with the information, but Olivia wasn't done. She stood up, walked around so she was directly in front of him, and held out her hand for him to take,

"So let's start over." She said with a smile, "Hi, I'm Olivia."

* * *

Waylon didn't take her hand, and Liv didn't really expect him to. Instead he gave her an intense gaze, his eyes boring into her own. It had taken her a moment to gather her courage so she could apologize, and now that she had done it she wasn't going to back away now.

She'd prove to him she was a good person.

"Waylon…" he said after a few tense moments. Liv felt herself smile,

"So do you want to take a walk, or should I just leave you alone?"

As he considered her question Liv felt a familiar cold shiver run down her spine. She gasped as a recognizable foul odor slipped into her nose, and a grimy arm wrapped around her shoulders,

"Well hey there, sweet thing…" crooned the same potbellied man she'd escaped from a few nights prior, "How's about you come and hang with a real man?"

Liv retched and tried to move away, but his grip clamped her shoulder like a vice. Just as he was about to drag her away a low and dangerous snarl filled the air. James, if she recalled correctly, froze and turned his eyes towards Waylon, who'd stood to his full frightening height. Taking advantage of his lapse in attention, Liv broke free and retreated to the safety of Waylon's presence.

The large man braced his hands against the ground, his body bending over her like a cage as he growled at James,

"Get the fuck out of here…"

"You better watch yourself, Jones, or one of these days you're gonna end up being someone's rug."

Liv watched as Jones's chest rippled with laughter and his maw split into a deadly grin, "I'll make sure you're dead long before that happens…" and with a loud snap of his jaws Waylon sent James and his friends running.

Olivia didn't realize she was holding her breath until her body told her. As she struggled to regain her composure Steven and Carrie came running up,

"Liv, I'm so sorry," Steven grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her into a hug, "Carrie and I were just putting the twins to bed. Did that bastard hurt you?"

"No…" muttered Liv as she pulled back and rubbed her arms, "No, Waylon made him go away."

Steven looked up at him and nodded, "Thanks, Jones."

"Yeah, yeah…" he said, flicking his eyes elsewhere as he rubbed the back of his head. She watched as Carrie showered Waylon with praise, beaming with pride, and she saw how unused to the attention he was.

"Well," said Olivia as she fought to put a smile back on her face, "I'm not about to let what's his name ruin my night—"

"Liv, he could—"

She stopped her brother with a stern glare, "Yes, I know he could be waiting to get me alone, I'm not stupid." She turned to Waylon and smiled, "Which was why I was wondering if you'd be willing to walk around with me again."

She felt so silly asking him, like they were about to go on a date.

God, she hoped she wasn't blushing.

Waylon nodded after a while giving her a gruff, "Fine."

"I owe ya, Jones." Said Steven, but the larger man simply waved him off as he followed Liv out into the Carnival. They traveled in silence for the most part until she finally plucked up the courage to turn around,

"So how long have you worked here?"

He avoided eye contact with her, pretending to be more interested in one of the sideshows, "Couple years, I knew your sister in law before your brother married her."

"Yeah, Carrie's a sweetheart; I'm so glad my brother's happy with her." The pair stopped to watch the last few minutes of a magic show. It was hard to tell what the performer was doing with the lights and the smoke, but it was a good show none the less. Afterwards the wandered into the food court, Liv's stomach demanding a snack,

"Do you want something?" she said as she ordered herself a caramel apple, Waylon shook his head. He was being awfully quiet. When she had her snack in hand she found them a nice, quiet, and dark corner for them to sit in. They could look out onto the courtyard filled with people, but it'd be hard for people to stare at Waylon. She sat with her back against one of the stalls with her companion just opposite of her,

"You sure you don't want a bite," she asked again, holding out her candy apple. Waylon shook his head and looked out on the crowd,

"Too sweet, it cramps up my stomach."

"Oh, ok. Just thought I'd ask. So what do you do here? I mean I saw your sign up on sideshow lane but it didn't divulge a lot of information…"

"Why the fuck are you doing this?" He snapped, turning his fierce eyes on her. She was taken aback by the angry look he was giving her, "What do you want from me?"

She stuttered for a minute, "W-what do you mean? I don't want anything from you."

He hissed in annoyance and shook his head, returning his attention to the crowd, "Doesn't matter who you are or where you're from, everybody always wants something; and if they can't buy it they'll take it by force and stab you in the back for good measure."

Liv cautiously stood up and inched closer to him, "You've must have met a lot of shitty people to make you think that way, I'm sorry about that, but I'm willing to do whatever it takes to prove to you that I'm nothing like that."

"Yeah, and what's in it for you?"

"Besides your trust and friendship?"

It was quiet for a long time, "And why would a rich kid like you want to be friends with someone like me? Have you taken a good look at what I am?"

He was staring at her again with those golden eyes of his. She was starting to realize she liked the way they looked and shone in the dark. Liv shrugged her shoulders,

"Ok, first off I'm not rich. My parents are rich, and yes there is a difference. Secondly, yes I have taken a good look, and I've decided I don't care. You act like you're some kind of animal when you're not."

"And who says I'm not?" he leaned in closer, getting up on his haunches so he could get into her face. She watched his nose work, as if he could smell her.

Was it her perfume?

It was lavender, did she put too much on?

She had only spritzed herself this morning.

"A-an animal would have let James Muscovy take me away." She pointed out timidly; her hand twitched at her side. Warily she reached up to touch him only to have him back away when they mere breadths from connecting. She sat back disappointed, but she should have known getting through to Waylon wouldn't have been easy.

She quietly snacked on her apple, watching him as he eyed the crowd. He must have endured so much hate to turn him into something like this,

"So your parent's are rich, huh?"

Well at least he wasn't done talking for the night.

"Yeah, they are, it's more of a burden then a boon. Having a lot of money makes them really insufferable."

Jones scoffed, "You even talk like a rich kid."

Liv laughed at him, "Well I never used to, before my brother ran away from home my parents usually spent their attention on him. So I was ignored mostly, which is not as fun as it sounds. I think I would rather have people hate me than ignore me."

"Shows what you know." Said Waylon, "But your brother ran away from that?" she chuckled at the skeptical look in his eyes,

"Yeah, I told you, our parent's are really insufferable. About five years ago my brother snuck out here and met Carrie. He fell in love, told my parents to stick it where the sun don't shine, and left. The rest is pretty predictable from there."

"Really, and where did your parent's attention go after your brother told em' to go fuck themselves?"

Liv looked down at the remains of her snack, "I'd rather not get into that whole mess, if it's alright with you."

"Whatever."

Liv figured this was as far as they were going to get tonight, and she didn't want to send them back to square one with any unnecessary prodding. She found the nearest garbage can and threw away her trash,

"Thanks again," she said as she smiled at him, "I had a really nice time; we should do this again."

"Yeah, whatever…" he said as he led her back to the trailers to get her things. Waylon was the last she bid goodnight to, as he was the one who escorted her to the gates, and as he turned to lumber back inside she thought she saw the hint of a smile.

But for all she knew, it could have been trick of the light.

Though Liv liked to think he had a nice time too.

* * *

_**A/N: It was kind of hard to write this chapter. Believe it or not I rewrote the beginning three different times before settling on an idea that I liked. So reviews would be so cool!**_

_**TheForgottenSheikah: truth be told I read some of VC Andrews books to get the right kind of snobby I needed for Liv's mother, and Andrews is a master of that kind of tone.**_

_**SwirlyPasta: I know, I really hate to write their end too, but this damn little plot bunny won't quit humping my leg until Liv and Waylon's story is told.**_

_**And thanks to those who favorite my story! It means a lot, so don't forget to leave some CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICSM in the little review box below please!**_

_**PathlessSpore**_


	7. Lady So Divine

The Animal Inside  
Batman Fanfiction  
Killer Croc/Waylon Jones/OC  
Romance/Hurt/Comfort/Tragedy  
Chapter 7  
Lady So Divine

_She's here to rescue me_  
_Clear my mind, and set me free_  
_If it's dark, she still shines_  
_A masterpiece made by design_

_She's here to rescue me_  
_Stain my mind with make believe_  
_If it's dark, she still shines_  
_She's my lady, so divine_

_Lady So Divine -Shinedown_

* * *

"_An animal would have let James Muscovy take me away…"_

The smell of lavender overpowered his slumber, dragging Waylon into consciousness with a snarl. He sat up, short of breath, looking for the source of the sweet aroma. He half expected Olivia to be standing at the door to the train car he'd made his home, but the door only locked from his side and he made sure to latch it every time he went to sleep.

It was a decent home for someone of his size; he was able to easily bend through the door way to fall into the collection of mattresses he called a bed. The circus even managed to fit his home with a cheap TV; it didn't play in color but Waylon wasn't about to complain. The walls were clean of any personal items, because he owned very few and he really didn't see the point of hanging that shit up.

He looked out the small window and noted the setting sun; he had a show tonight with Lockjaw, his pet alligator. He hadn't meant to get attached to the ornery little bastard, but the circus didn't want to kill the creature and he just rubbed off on Waylon. After a few years the two came to an understanding of sorts, there were nights where Waylon would win and there were nights Lockjaw took home the glory.

Either way, the pair was a big hit with the crowds and Waylon more than earned his keep.

Jones heaved himself from his bed, tossing off the blankets as he dug around for a cleaner pair of pants. Finding clothes in his size was difficult to begin with, which was why he didn't wear shirts all that often. The circus tailor usually made most of his clothes anyway. Waylon eventually found a pair of tattered old jeans and unlatched the door to his home.

It was the lull between busy hours where the little kids were just going home and the adults were coming out to play. His show started in an hour and he needed to make sure Lockjaw was fed before then. He ran into Carrie on his way to get the gator's dinner; they talked politely for a minute or so. Eventually he was dragging the hindquarter of a deer into his tent and to the cage at the back.

Lockjaw was _big_ for an alligator and was strong enough to pin Waylon under his weight when he was feeling up for it. He dwelled in a large glass habitat filled with cool water for him to bathe and sit in, and a couple of hot lamps so he could sun himself. Topped off with three square meals a day, this gator was living the good life.

"Hey," Waylon called, tapping his knuckles against the glass. Lockjaw, who was trying his best to hide himself in the clear water, opened up his eyes to stare ruefully at Jones who chuckled; it looked Waylon would be winning this brawl tonight, "I got dinner."

He opened up the habitat and stepped into the water; it reached his knees as he waded over to the large reptile. A low hiss erupted from Lockjaw's mouth as he opened his jaws and snapped at Waylon.

It seemed like the bastard was feeling a little crabby tonight and that usually meant he put up more of a fight. Looked like the crowd was in for one hell of a show, and that meant good tips.

"What's eatin' your hide?" chuckled Waylon as he raised the haunch of the deer above the gator. A hungry looked settled into those reptile eyes and he lunged out of the water like a well trained predator. He ripped his dinner free from Jones's iron grip and landed with a loud splash back into the water. He tore greedily at his food intent on ignoring his companion until every last bit of it was ripped to shreds and eaten.

A few minutes later a crew came into to help Jones set up the ring where he and Lockjaw would wrestle. It took the rest of his spare time trying to coax the damn gator to get out of his cage. Eventually, just as his show was about to start, he prodded his pet into the open ring and told the crew to kill the lights.

As the crowd settled into the seats Lockjaw started to get himself worked up; he hissed and snapped at Jones, completely unhappy that he was not lounging in his cage. Waylon snickered and prepared himself for the gator's attack as soon as the lights flipped on.

Furiously, Lockjaw lunged at Waylon intent on sinking his teeth into his arm. The large man dodged quickly, knowing that if he was caught in those powerful jaws that gator'd have him pinned in no time. The crowd cheered as Waylon tried to grab Lockjaw by the throat and hold him, but the gator backpedaled with a loud snap, before quickly tuning so he could sweep his large tail at Jones's feet.

They tussled back and forth for several minutes, the crowd gasping and cheering. Just as he was cornering Lockjaw so he could pin him something drifted in through his nose. A sweet lavender perfume so intoxicating and familiar he flicked his gaze up for a fraction of a second.

She was sitting there in the front row, watching his performance. She had a look somewhere between awe and suspense filled terror fitted with a gleaming smile.

His lapse of attention was all Lockjaw needed to sink his teeth in Waylon's arm and pull. With a cry of shock Jones fell to his knees and was instantly flipped and pinned by the alligator, who hissed in triumph. The crowd went wild, cheering for the gator who'd won the night.

"Soak it in, asshole," muttered Waylon as he shoved the reptiles' huge weight off his chest. The crowd filtered out slowly, allowing Jones to lead Lockjaw back to his cage, for which the gator happily did so,

"Don't get too comfy;" called Waylon as he locked the habitat door and rapped his knuckles against the glass, "We've got another show in an hour."

Lockjaw just sunk into the water.

With a roll of his eyes Waylon found a med kit and a roll of gauze. He exited the tent from the back while bandaging up his bleeding arm, intent on looking for the source of his distraction.

He didn't have to look far.

Liv was waiting for him as soon he as stepped outside. She was leaning against a crate, hands behind her back. She stepped forward as soon as she saw him, her hands out to touch his arm,

"Are you okay?"

Waylon pulled out of her reach, "I'm fine, that damn gator's done worse. Besides it was your fault."

She gave him an indignant glare, "How in the world was it my fault?"

"Your perfume caught my attention."

"B-but I only sprayed myself this morning," she said confusedly, "Is your sense of smell really that good?"

"Yeah." he snapped defensively, she gave him a sheepish grin,

"I think that's really cool."

She never ceased to surprise him; all this time he expected her to revert back into her old attitude, in fact he was kind of hoping she would. It was easy to deal with the hate and fear, but the kindness of someone like her…

Someone so…

Normal and…

Dare he say it, beautiful?

To say that she had been on his mind lately was an understatement. Like the enthralling scent that always followed in her wake, he had become warily attached to her through the little time they'd spent together.

Damn it, there she went again with fucking smile of hers. Waylon swallowed hard as he finished patching up his arm, tossing the used gauze into the nearby trash bin,

"So, what are you doing here?"

"Yeah, that's kind of a long story and reminds that I really need to go before they—"

"Oh my gosh, Olivia," came a voice at the opposite end of the alley. He watched Liv cringe in horror and instantly his harsh gaze went up. Standing with her hands on her hips was whore if he ever saw one, and he knew quite a few. She had curly blonde hair and way too much make up on as her lips formed into a sneer, "Are you actually talking with that thing?"

She sauntered towards them, three more appearing and following her wake.

"Wow," said the blonde bitch, her eyes scanning him, "I feel bad for the woman who had to birth you, god you're so ugly."

Waylon hissed low in his throat as the group tittered in amusement and that blonde whore basked in the attention she received. Then, worst of all, she turned to Olivia and smiled,

"This is so much fun, Livvy; I wish we'd done this sooner."

It burned through him like a wild fire, betrayal and his set his face into a fierce snarl.

He should have fucking known!

No one ever fucking changed!

* * *

Olivia watched mortified as the anger crossed Waylon's features, complete and utter betrayal. Dear lord, he thought she planned this. Patricia and her coven of friends laughed and picked on him as he gave her an angry shake of his head and turned to stalk away.

This wasn't happening!

Trish wanted to come here with her friends so they could have a good laugh at the expense of others. She forcibly dragged Olivia along, and being weak willed she allowed herself to be roped into this. And to see the hurt and anger in Waylon's eyes as he was teased was absolute torture.

"_Then do something about it." Said the stern voice in her head simply._

"_Don't rock the boat, and why does it matter," replied her timid conscious, "He didn't want your friendship."_

"_Do you really know that for sure? You did see the look on his face, right? Only a person who was starting to trust you would look like that."_

Liv hesitated, torn by her two conscious's argument. But the deciding factor was one simple statement she remembered,

"_You promised you were going to show him you were a good person," Stated the firm tone, "No matter what."_

* * *

This was the price he paid for being foolish. He listened to them as he walked away, memories of his childhood flooding back; the torture, the name calling, and the laughing. He had promised himself he'd never be the object of anyone's prejudice again, and he had gone and gotten himself played.

"Hey, knock it off!"

He halted mid-stride, Liv's voice echoing fiercely in the dark alley. He hesitated before turning around to watch her step forward and confront the blonde. Her red hair bounced furiously as she shook her head; the uptight broad looked stunned for a moment, obviously unused to being called out on. She quickly recovered however and masked her surprise with a sneer,

"What the hell are you doing? Are you standing up for him?"

Liv stuck her nose up at her, "Yeah, I am, and if you have a problem you can turn your pretentious ass around and walk away, because I won't let you hurt Waylon."

"Oh my gosh," the look of triumph on that cunt's face made Liv cringe, "Just wait until everyone hears about this. You actually have feelings for that freak."

"Go ahead, tell everybody," Olivia spat back, "I don't care!"

"Your family is going to be the laughing stock of Gotham when this gets out, I can't wait—"

How it happened, Waylon couldn't exactly recall. One minute he was standing there as Olivia threw her family reputation on the line just for him, the next he was behind her towering over that blonde cunt as a look of palpable fear crossed her features. Liv gasped loudly and stumbled back as a loud and angry snarl ripped itself free from his throat.

"Keep talking, Bitch," he snapped, "There are plenty of places to hide a dead body in these swamps…"

"Y-you wouldn't" she stuttered nervously making him grin,

"Just try me; now I suggest if you want to live you turn around and walk away, and keep this to yourself. Because if I found you've caused trouble I will find you and I will end your pathetic life."

They scattered at a run and the beast inside him egged him to chase after them. He felt the adrenaline course through his system as his legs tensed to take off; their scent was laced with fear and blood. But another scent swept through his haze.

It was lavender mixed with fear.

Olivia was still here; as he came down from his adrenal high he noticed he was panting from the thrill of almost giving chase, growling and hissing at the same time. He looked over at her; she had pushed herself against the stall, green eyes wide with fear and her pulse going a hundred miles a minute. She looked at him for a long time, her face an emotionless mask though her scent gave away her fear.

But slowly she calmed down; Liv stepped forward cautiously eyes ever wary in case he decided to turn on her.

Clever girl.

"Why did you stand up for me?" he questioned softly, not wanting to scare her off,

"Because, well—" she stammered for a moment, a red hue rushing across her cheeks. She was blushing? "I consider you my friend, and I'm not going to let anyone pick on you like that."

A friend…?

Waylon could honestly say he didn't have many of those, or at least one who genuinely cared about him. Could she be serious about wanting to befriend him; if she was lying she would have let that coven of bitches continue their verbal assault. Instead, she stepped up and confronted them on his behalf. No one had ever really done that for him.

He almost didn't want it to be true.

"Yeah, well, whatever." As he turned to hide his indecisiveness he heard her laugh; with a quick twist he was staring her down as she giggled, "What?"

"I'm starting to notice that you say "Whatever" a lot, especially when you're a little…unsure." she mimicked his gruff tone playfully, "I think it's cute."

He scoffed irritably at her, but allowed her comment to slide, "I've got work tonight, so I can't babysit you. You better get home before trouble finds you."

"Yeah, well, Trish was my ride here and I'm betting she's already long gone by now. I'd get my brother to do it, but he's working too. So until he's free you're stuck with me. Besides I want to watch another wrestling match; that Alligator got you good."

"_Yeah",_ he thought with amusement as he stepped back inside the tent with Liv close on his heels, _"He only won because you were there to distract me."_

* * *

_**A/N: A longer chapter, of which I'm very proud of. And it is also a turning point in Liv and Waylon's relationship. It's also in this chapter where we see Liv starts to affect Mr. Jones just by her mere presence and her scent alone.**_

_**I do hope you guys will leave reviews; I've noticed a drop in them lately. I really look forward to reading your thoughts and pieces of CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM.**_

_**Speaking of which:**_

_**Swirlypasta: That scene between Liv and Croc was touching to me as well. I'm glad you liked it so.**_

_**TheforgottenSheikah: Longer chapters for the win!**_

_**And thank you to the new favs and alerts! Your support means so much to me.**_

_**PathlessSpore**_


	8. Death Valley

The Animal Inside  
Batman Fanfiction  
Waylon Jones/Killer Croc/OC  
Romance/Hurt/Comfort/Tragedy  
Chapter 8  
Death Valley

_I wanna see your animal side  
Let it all out  
I wanna see the dirt under your skin  
I need your broken promises_

_Death Valley – Fall Out Boy_

* * *

Olivia had long ago tuned out the party; she was content on daydreaming in her little corner of hell until it grew late enough for her to actually leave. She wore a white strapless dress with a lace shawl covering her shoulders. Her red hair was done up into a tight and formal bun with a loose strand peeking out from the back. She stirred her drink aimlessly thinking about Waylon's show three nights prior.

She had sat in that front row seat for three more consecutive matches in a row, cheering on Waylon and Lockjaw. Liv had been introduced to the large reptile, albeit from the safety of the other side of the glass habitat, who eyed her like lunch for a few moments before deciding she wasn't worth the effort. The way Waylon talked about the gator was like an owner would a pet, and it was sweet to see that he had found companionship.

As the duo wrestled around in that ring she could witness Waylon's true strength. Muscles rippled with each movement, flexing as he either tried to pin Lockjaw or hoist him over his head. Liv found herself staring in awe more than once with a hot blush across her face. Everything about him screamed that he was a male in his prime with the capability to protect or harm whatever he pleased.

More than once they locked eyes with each other and with every occurrence she noticed his ego skyrocketing through the roof.

Liv smiled at the memory with a dreamy sigh.

Suddenly a shadow fell over her and she looked up. A young man in an expensive black and white suit stood over her. He had clean cut blonde hair and blue eyes. He gave her a smile with his gleaming white teeth, a gesture that would have had any girl screaming in delight. But Liv knew his true nature was uglier than he looked.

"Now Olivia," he said simply, as if he was talking to a stupid woman, "You are my fiancé; it is imperative that we be seen together. People might talk otherwise."

"_Just throw your drink in his face!" _cried her angry conscious_. _The more timid side of her managed to talk her down with what would happen to her if she did. So she gave Jackson Sullivan a smile and nodded,

"Of course."

All she had to do was make it through the next hour and a half….

As Jackson drug her around to talk with the rest of his petty friends, Liv spent half of her time hardly paying attention. She kept staring off into the distance in a trance; every once in a while someone would inquire of her health to which she gave a simple noncommittal answer.

Tomorrow was the last day the circus would be staying Gotham. The owner of the business was throwing a farewell party that night; games, food, and sideshows would be half priced, and at the end of the evening there would be a spectacular fireworks show. It'd also be the last time she'd get to see Waylon, or at least for a while it would be. He'd be traveling across the country with his friends and wouldn't be back in Gotham for a whole other year. She was going to miss him, and she didn't want to squander her last opportunity to spend time with him.

So she stuck out the torture of having to spend time with her insufferable fiancé, who had explained that her lack of attention was due to brain damage. Liv clenched her fist in anger, but kept silent as Jackson's friends laughed at her expense.

She was seriously starting to consider throwing that drink.

And by the grace of god himself she was able to finally leave. Jackson put on a big show of escorting her to her waiting car, kissing her passionately on the cheek, and telling her he'd count the minutes till their next meeting. Liv knew it was just a show for the media, he didn't care about her and she knew if a better looking woman who had more money became available he'd drop her in a second.

Pig…

Logan gave her a smirk from the driver's seat as Liv heaved a sigh of relief. She wiped her cheek furiously for most of the ride home, trying to rid herself of Jackson's grimy kiss. Tomorrow, she would find some excuse to avoid her family so she could spend time with Waylon.

* * *

Liv made sure to wake up especially early the next morning. She hurried around her house making herself a light meal and coffee; when she could finally sit down Logan let himself through the front door. He looked cheerful this morning, a nice light smile that reached his eyes. It put Olivia into a good mood as he helped himself to a cup of morning brew,

"Playing hooky today?" inquired her bodyguard as he fished out one of his novels and took a sip of his coffee. He gave her that playful smirk with a cocked brow; Liv chuckled softly,

"Perhaps, it's the last day of the Circus will be staying in Gotham, I want to see my brother and his wife before they leave."

"There's no one else you'll be seeing, a certain male interest perhaps?"

Liv dropped her coffee in embarrassment, squealing as the hot drink spilled into her lap. She tried to wipe it up quickly while hiding the mad blush searing across her cheeks,

"I don't know what you mean, Logan."

Her companion laughed, "You can't fool me, Ms. Branson. With all your dreamy sighs and distractions, one would think you've found a new beau."

"That's crazy talk, Mr. James." She said with a sniff, leaving her seat to get another cup of coffee. He only chuckled at her and gave her a knowing smile as she returned to her spot. Liv was intent on ignoring her friend for the duration of her morning; she rifled through the day's newspaper wondering how she was going to avoid her parents for the entirety of the day.

The problem ended up sorting itself out; around noon Logan informed her that her parents had called and were going to be busy with some of her father's clients. Liv couldn't believe her luck and with that information she gave her devout bodyguard the rest of the day off.

He expressed some concern about leaving her alone, but she assuaged his fears as she dressed in a pair of tattered jeans and old T-shirt. She would be with Waylon today, and there was nowhere safer than with him. Logan escorted her to her car still unconvinced, but he bid her farewell and watched as she drove off.

Not surprisingly, the fair grounds were extremely busy. Hundreds of people were here to take advantage of the sales and shows going on. Liv had to fight her way to Buck, who smiled at her and let her through without any trouble. Steven was in his home with Carrie and the kids,

"Aunt Liv!" Cried the twins, they ran to her and hugged her legs as Olivia showered them with kisses,

"I knew it was going to be busy," she said as she picked up Joey; Carrie laughed in agreement,

"I know, I'm booked for shows and Steven's got to work a string of stalls tonight. Poor Nan is going to have her hands full."

"I wouldn't worry," said her brother, "That old bat can handle anything."

His wife gave him a withering glare, but fortunately for Steven he had to leave for work. He kissed Carrie on the cheek, said goodbye to Liv and the kids, and was gone the next instant. Her sister in law shook her head in amusement,

"That man I swear…" she looked up at Liv, "Well if you're looking for Waylon I think he's in the Rec tent."

It didn't take long for Olivia get there, or for her to find her huge companion working out in the back. Like when she first met him, he was doing bench presses without so much as breaking a sweat. The muscles in his arms and pectorals rippled with the sheer effort of lifting the weights. Liv couldn't help but admire his raw strength; and while she knew his eyes were trained on the ceiling of the Rec tent, she could see his nose twitch.

"You're here early." He commented, easily he sat up and shouldered the weights. She shrugged and smiled at him,

"Well it is the last day I get to see my brother and his family, and of course the last day I get to see you. I don't waste what little time I have left. So if figured if you didn't mind I'd spend the day with you, since Carrie and Steven have work."

Waylon snorted and set down the barbell with a loud thud, "And what makes you think I don't have work too?"

"Well I guessed that already," she said with a roll of her eyes, "But I'm still tagging along."

* * *

Was it sad that he could recognize her now by scent alone? No one else wore lavender perfume, or at least not in the way she did. Liv wore an old pair of tattered and ripped jeans and a faded grey T-shirt. She had an expectant look on her face as she gazed up at him waiting for his reply.

Most of his work didn't start until the evening, but that didn't mean he wouldn't be needed throughout of the day; other workers usually came to him for help with heavy lifting due to his size and strength. Otherwise, he was free to do what he liked until his string of shows later tonight.

He knew he'd be lying if he said he didn't want her to keep him company until then.

Waylon cursed inwardly and rubbed the back of his head. With a shake of his head he lumbered past her; as he did he stuck a claw in her face,

"Just don't get in my way today."

She giggled, "Okay."

It turned out he was needed more than he thought. As soon as they left the large tent a worker from one of the rides came running up. It was another mechanical malfunction, a trend that had been sweeping through most of the attractions, and the kid's roller coaster needed to get taken down immediately.

At the rate the rides were shutting down, some people were starting to suspect that they were being tampered with. It took about an hour and a half for him and six other men to take apart the damn contraption. All the while he noticed Liv sitting off in the shade of a large tree waiting so ever so patiently for him to finish. She was concentrating on something in her hands for most of the time and when he walked over afterwards she looked up and smiled. Olivia had a garland of woven flowers in her hands.

She must have picked them from the base of the tree.

Suddenly, as he bent down to talk to her, she threw it up and it landed on his head. He hissed in annoyance and shook his head irritably. But before it could fall to the ground he caught it and handed it back to her. Liv gave it a rueful glare,

"Darn it, it was meant to go around your neck and I made it too small."

"Some people would have complained about the wait…"

She started to unweave her creation giving him a teasing smirk, "In case you haven't noticed, I'm not like other people."

He huffed at her, "You hungry?"

Instantly her eyes shot up and glittered, "I thought you would never ask!" she said as she swiftly scrambled up, "What do you want, I'll buy!"

"You don't have-" he started as he followed Liv towards the food court. She shook her head in exasperation,

"Nonsense, I'm spending my money on you today whether you like it or not. Now what do you want?"

Waylon decided it was in his best interest not to argue with her. So he let her order their lunch, a cheap carnival meal that was going to have his digestive system in knots later. They found the corner where they had sat a couple nights prior, hidden away from prying eyes. Once again she sat with her back against the stall and him just opposite of her.

They sat in silence for most of the time, Liv still working on her garland, until she looked up at him,

"Have you ever thought about working anywhere else?"

"Yeah, I once thought about working at the Gotham Bank where everyone can fucking see me." He snapped sarcastically, giving her a withering glower

She returned it with one of her own, "Look, I'm not making fun of you if that's what you're thinking. There's a ton of stuff you could do besides working in a carnival."

"Like what, genius?"

She thought about it for a long time, making him snort with derision. Working here at the circus was an honest job, and he was lucky to have gotten it. There was nowhere else in the world where he'd be this fortunate.

"What about professional wrestling?" she said suddenly, "I mean you're already good at it. I can already see the headlines 'The Amazing Killer Croc!' " she looked at him eagerly, "The crowds would absolutely love you!"

He had to scoff at her naiveté, "I'm starting to think you're either blind or just plain fucking stupid." He said irritably as he stood up. Put off by her question and subsequent answer, he found that he needed to put space between them before he did something he was going to regret. She didn't follow after him as he stalked away muttering angrily to himself.

What the hell was she thinking? It was cruel to give him hope of a better life outside the circus, especially when he knew how the world really worked.

No one would ever accept him.

He eventually hid himself away in his house trying to pass away the time by watching TV. He flicked through the channels crossly. Suddenly the smell of lavender wafted in through the door. He glanced over but didn't see her; she was probably hiding behind the door debating on whether or not to disturb him.

"I can smell you out there." He called shortly, eyes fixating back on the colorless pictures. From the corner of his vision he saw Liv poke her head around the door. Nervousness mixed the natural scent of her perfume told him she was very uncomfortable, "What do you want?"

She hesitated at the door before stepping up into his room, "I wanted to apologize; I thought about what I said and I realized it sounded really stupid and insensitive. It wasn't my intention to offend you, or make you mad-"

"Shut up," he said as he turned off the TV, he threw himself out of his bed and walked past her to go outside. However, unlike before she didn't just let him walk away. Next thing he knew he had to stop short because she had stubbornly planted herself in the middle of his path,

"I get why you're upset, I said something really dumb without thinking-"

"Do you?" he snapped angrily, glaring down at her, "Do you really understand why I'm so pissed off? You talk to me like I'm a normal fucking person when you damn well know that I'm not!"

"I don't care about what your skin looks like!" she cried in exasperation, throwing up her hands in defeat, "What is going to take for you to understand that? Yes, the skin is there but it means nothing to who you are on the inside, and on the inside you are a good person! That is what I really care about!"

It was quiet for a long time until she stepped towards him. Her petite fingers reached out to grasp his large hand. He instantly had the urge to pull away but she clasped onto him tightly,

"We're friends Waylon," Olivia said as the pads of her fingers traced his rough skin, "Or at least I like to think we are, and wouldn't do anything to hurt you on purpose."

Waylon looked away from her, unused to the attention. Eventually he pulled his hand out of her grasp; every instinct in his body told him to run. It told him not to get attached because it would only fuck him over in the end. But no one had ever tried so hard for him, and he'd be lying if he said he didn't want her friendship.

"Waylon?" He looked back down at her expectant face, "I'm sorry."

"Yeah, well-"

"Whatever." she mimicked in his gruff tone. He knew it wasn't the reply she was looking for but she was willing to get what she could.

* * *

Liv had never really been as scared as she had been an hour ago. The thought of losing what little trust Waylon had placed in her just because she had spoken without thinking. That terrified her, because Waylon was one of the few true friendships she had in a world filled with deceit and lies.

She remembered grabbing his hand in an effort to show that she was going to be there for him. The palms of his hand had been smoother than the top, which had been quite rough to the touch. His claw like nails were meticulously sharpened to be deadly, but she knew he could be surprisingly gentle too.

Instead of pulling away like he usually did he allowed her to experiment with his skin. Eventually, however, he did release himself from her touch and accepted her apology, albeit in his short and grumpy tone,

"So, I'll just go and leave you alone." she said softly, stepping back, "Good-bye Waylon." With a small smile she turned around and started to walk away. She had gotten to the entertainment avenue when she noticed people around her were parting for something, heir eyes fixated over her shoulders. Liv peeked behind her and nearly grinned at Waylon who was shadowing just behind her,

"You're going to get in trouble if I leave you alone." he said simply. They spent the next few hours together in an easy silence, their earlier argument forgotten. Liv spent much of that time still desperately trying to win herself a prize at the various games,

"Just give up," said Waylon wearily as Olivia tried her luck once again at the bottle game. She stubbornly stuck her tongue out at him as she aimed and let the ball loose. The poor man who ran the stand yelped in surprise and ducked in time to avoid being hit in the head.

"Hey Waylon," said the worker as he peeked above the counter, "Instead of harping on her, why don't you be a gentleman and win the lady a nice prize?"

"Would you?" Liv turned to him in excitement as her large companion scowled at his co-worker. He simply shook his head at her and scoffed out a,

"No."

"Please?"

I said no, damn it."

"Pretty please?" When it looked like he wasn't going to budge, Olivia crossed her arms and frowned, "Well until I win a prize I'm not leaving, and neither are you for that matter."

He relented eventually, grumbling under his breath, and he easily won her a prize with a lazy throw of his arm. The stacked bottles crashed to the ground, and the relieved worker handed her a large stuffed bear and bid them goodbye. Evening had almost completely fallen by now, and everyone seemed to be in a hurried rush towards the back of the fair grounds. Liv nearly squealed in delight,

"The Fireworks are going to start soon," she said looking up at Waylon, "Do you want to watch them with me?"

For a moment she thought he was going to say no, but instead he shrugged his shoulders,

"I don't see why not..."

It was easy to walk through the crowds and find a spot in the open field behind the fair grounds. The large space was filled with people eagerly awaiting the grand show they had been promised. Liv found the two of them a nice spot away from people, but with a clear view of the starry sky

* * *

Waylon didn't know why he agreed to go with her in the first place. He hated the fireworks show, it was loud and hurt his sensitive ears and the bright lights almost always gave him a headache. But he sat down with Olivia, who clutched her prize as she eagerly looked towards the sky,

"After this, I'm going to have to wait a whole other year to be here again." she said wistfully, "I'm going to miss this; especially you Waylon." she looked at him with those green eyes of hers,

"What do you mean by that?"

"Well, I won't see you for a year and I won't have anyone to talk to. It's going to be really lonely." Suddenly she dug around in her pocket and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. She held it out for him to take. In the low light he could make out a mailing address that had been hastily written down,

"While you were cooling off I wrote this down. I wanted you to have it in case you decided you didn't hate me, and still wanted to talk to me. That way, no matter where you are, we can still keep in touch. It'll be like we're pen pals."

"Uh, thanks, I guess." He clutched it in his fist and glanced at her. Their gazes met and Waylon felt a odd warmth bloom in his chest. Suddenly, he didn't want the circus to leave Gotham. What if he left and in the time he was gone Olivia finally came to her senses and decided he was too ugly to look at? Without meaning to he'd allowed himself to become attached, and he hated to think what would happen if something about their timid relationship took a turn for the worst.

The pair looked up into the sky as the tell tale whistle of the fireworks echoed in the air. Loud and bright splashes of color decorated the night as the two sat in silence together. Afterwards, as Waylon escorted Liv to her car she suddenly grabbed him by the hand again and squeezed it gently.

"Take care of yourself Waylon, " she said, "and promise me you'll be safe."

"Yeah," he nodded, "I will. See you, Liv."

And he watched as she drove away, red taillights disappearing into the night, and suddenly he couldn't wait for the next year to pass.

* * *

**_A/N: Whew, that was a long chapter! Sorry I've been so late with my update, I've been busy the last few days and I finally got the time to sit down and write like I wanted to. So I'm really looking forward to your CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM on this beauty here._**

**_Speaking of which, gotta love those reviews:_**

**_Sango1316: Oh my dear, have no fear. I have no intention of letting this story sit and gather dust. I've invested myself into this one quite a bit. I do hope you'll keep coming back for more!_**

**_China Dang: Thanks for the review!_**

**_The ForgottenSheikah: Yay, I'm so glad you liked it, I kinda wanted Lockjaw to be boss._**

**_Darkwolf1121: Lockjaw is somewhat my own creation. Waylon did wrestle Alligators in his time during the circus but they never said if it had a name or not, so I gave the snappy creature a name along with personality to fit._**

**_SwirlyPasta: Well those muscles rippled in my mind... *Fangirl giggle and swoon*_**

**_GG: Thanks!_**

**_And to my new favs and alerts, thank you so much! Your support means a lot to me!_**

**_On side note, I've decided on Olivia and Waylon's theme for right now. It's called "Death Valley" by Fall Out Boy and it's a really good song. Give it a listen to!_**

**_PathlessSpore_**


	9. Wake Me Up When September Ends

The Animal Inside  
Batman Fanfiction  
Waylon Jones/Killer Croc/OC  
Romance/Hurt/Comfort/Tragedy  
Chapter 9  
Wake Me Up When September Ends

_Here comes the rain again_  
_Falling from the stars_  
_Drenched in my pain again_  
_Becoming who we are_

_Wake Me Up When September Ends - Green Day_

* * *

_**Fall**_

A month had barely passed since the circus' departure and already the leaves on the trees were turning. Varying shades of red and gold swept across the streets and sidewalks of Gotham, painting the gloomy city with some much needed color. Olivia had taken to spending most of her time inside her penthouse, too bored and depressed to venture outside. Unanswered invitations and angry voice-mails from her mother were ignored as she lounged by the large picture window in her living room, gazing down at the busy streets.

Waylon had not written to her in that time. She felt jaded that he hadn't taken a few moments to write down a few words; anything from him at this point would have been sufficient. But here she was being completely unfair; he could have already sent the letter but it got lost in the mail or some other complication arose.

And she knew she wasn't doing herself any favors by sitting around her house moping.

There was a firm knock at her door and Liv looked up to see Logan let himself in. He gave her a concerned look, and she could understand why. She probably looked like a mess, dressed in a pair of sweatpants and a long sleeve shirt; even her hair, which she took pride in, was messy and unattractive.

"Hi," she said softly, looking back out the window, "How are you?"

"I could almost ask you the same thing, Miss Olivia." Chastised her bodyguard sternly, "You've been like this every since the Gotham Circus left town."

"I guess I just miss having something to look forward to."

"Or someone..."

Liv jumped at his implication, a red blush flushing her cheeks, "I don't know what-"

"Don't play coy with me," Warned Logan as he came into her living room and took a seat beside her, "Who is he?"

It took a moment for her to answer him with a meek, "His name is Waylon Jones..."

"And he works at the circus?" She nodded softly; her companion hummed quietly, "Is he nice?"

Liv chuckled, "He's a little rough around the edges, but he's sweet even though he doesn't like to show it."

"If it's not above my station ask, do you still plan on marrying Jackson Sullivan?"

Olivia was confused at his sudden question, "Well it's what my parent's expect of me."

"Then, if I may, I suggest you don't get any more attached to this Waylon Jones than you already are."

"Logan James!" She felt outraged at his simple statement, but her outburst only made him shrug,

"You're intent on marrying the Sullivan boy; by leading on Waylon Jones you're not only hurting him but you're also hurting yourself."

Liv turned away from him in shame, "I know, but I guess it's only me that feels like this. Waylon doesn't trust people very much, and I was lucky to even be able to call him a friend by the end of last month."

Logan nodded in satisfaction before reaching over to pet her mussy hair, "You live in a world where you either have to make one choice or the other. It's only a matter of which you want more." He gave her a sad smile as he got up and walked back into the kitchen.

_"So apparently you like money more than Waylon Jones, huh?" _Asked the tough snide voice in her head,

"_That's not true, you're only doing what's right..."_

_"Oh really, is letting your parents use you for their own ends at the expense of your dreams right? You're brother saw straight through their bullshit and left to be happy with Carrie."_

"Don't acknowledge the voices in your head..." she muttered as she suddenly threw herself from her seat,

"What was that, Miss Branson?"

"Nothing, just talking to myself." she called as she disappeared inside her bathroom for a much needed shower. Fifteen minutes later she came out wearing a towel, running a hand through her wet red hair. Logan had his face dutifully hidden in his novel, taking extra care to keep his eyes on the words.

"How's your wife Sarah doing?" She asked as she poured herself a cup of coffee Logan had put on. He shrugged his shoulders, eyes still on the pages,

"She's moody and tired most of the time, but she's doing well. And don't worry, Sarah liked the gift cards you sent her."

"Oh good, I didn't know what to get so I figured helping her out with those gift cards would be best. That way she could just pick out stuff for the baby on her own."

"Well she appreciated it."

Liv smiled and retreated to her bedroom. Another fifteen minutes later she returned, dressed in a cleaner pair of sweatpants and a tank top. In that time Logan had left and come back with more mail. She sighed irritably as he handed her the large pile,

"Junk, Junk, invitation to whose party...?" she muttered under her breath looking at the letter, "Patricia Adams, she's got a lot of nerve..." She tossed aside the note and kept going. Five envelopes later she paused at one written in what almost looked like legible chicken scratch.

Could it be?

Eagerly, she singled it out and tore it open. Two pages of notebook paper sat folded inside along with a list of addresses to various fairgrounds spread across the US.

Her eyes scanned the letter quickly, a smile breaking out on her face as she finally came to the name signed below.

Waylon Jones.

She squealed in delight clutching the letter against her chest; She noticed Logan giving her a side long glance but she didn't care. She skipped happily to her bedroom and closed the door with a firm snap. Her writing desk sat near the window opposite of the door and she quickly pulled back the chair to sit down.

* * *

Waylon grumbled irritably as his house came to a sudden and screeching stop. He flew out of his bed and nearly slid across the room had he not braced his hands against the floor. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes he stood up, unlocked the door, and stepped out into the sun.

It had taken them a few weeks to get to their next big destination; the fairgrounds outside Metropolis were large and for right now very empty. They'd be setting up in the next few days, hopefully opening up in time for business.

"Jones!" Waylon turned around to find a man run up to him, "You're needed to help set up the main tent."

He nodded and set to it. The sun beat down on the workers as they set up as efficiently as they could. They didn't stop for a break until the tent was standing tall and other people were hooking up the lights to the generators.

Waylon never talked much when he worked with others, mostly because no one ever took conversation with him. It allowed his mind to wander as he lifted beams or pulled on ropes to move heavy loads. He had finally taken the time to sit down and write to Olivia nearly a week and a half ago and sending it out the next day. He had put it off for a while because he highly doubted she wanted to hear about the mundane tasks that usually happened when the circus traveled.

But mostly it was because he didn't know what to do. He'd never done anything like this before and was at a loss about it. He started writing to her a few days after they left, but he ended up scraping more paper than he thought possible. Instead of giving himself a headache worrying about it, he thought of what he was going to put in the letter for the next few days. He didn't want to be short with Liv, but he didn't want to sound completely stupid through the whole damn ordeal.

He eventually got advice from Carrie, who had noticed his more withdrawn attitude, and she simply told him to talk about the others instead of himself.

So that was exactly what he did.

He apologized for not writing sooner, stating that he had been busy, and then continued on to discuss how her family was doing. He even mentioned Becky more than a few times, stating she was starting to learn how to read braille.

He sent the letter out the next day to Liv's address, and had impatiently awaited her reply ever since. However, today he was too busy to think of her impending reply as he was needed to set up several of the rides and the rest of the tents. By the time he was done noon had long since passed and everyone was taking a well deserved break in the Rec tent. They had managed to hook up the air conditioners to the generators, and several of the hot workers were standing in front of them cooling off.

Jones sat in the back where it was dark and he could see everyone. Through the entrance to the tent one of the Ringleaders right hand men came through. He was a young man in his early twenties with short black hair and wire rimmed glasses. In his arms he held a huge pile of mail that instantly drew a crowd; Waylon closed his eyes, he highly doubted Liv's reply would be coming any time soon. She was a rich born woman from Upper Gotham, she didn't have time to write to someone like him.

"Uh- Waylon?"

His eyes snapped open making the kid jump in surprise. He swallowed nervously and held out something with his shaky hand. Waylon ripped it free from his grasp and within seconds the kid scurried away. Jones eyed the envelope his name written in perfectly neat handwriting on the front along with the fairgrounds mailing address. The scent of lavender enveloped him as he used a claw to rip open the envelope and take out the letter inside.

She had replied to his letter much to his surprise.

_Waylon,_

_I'm glad to hear you're doing well; I don't mind that it took you some time to sit down and write, I figured you must have been busy. Everything is quiet here at home, I find myself becoming bored now that you're gone. I have absolutely nothing to look forward to until you come back again next year._

_I'm happy to hear that Carrie and Steven are doing well; it doesn't surprise me that my dear sister in law would be so hard on my brother for his faux pas concerning Nan, who seems to be very charming the way you described her. And considering that the poor old dear was within earshot makes it so much worse._

_And I'm pleasantly surprised and proud that Becky's taken up on learning to read braille. You didn't divulge much on how her lessons are going so please be sure to tell me in your reply. Hopefully she'll be able to read well enough to show me come next summer._

_And how have you been? You didn't say much about yourself in your letter, and it concerns me a bit. I suppose that's just me being silly, I have a tendency to be that way._

Waylon smiled as Liv continued to ramble on about she had been spending more time indoors, often berating herself to him about her lack of activity. Towards the end of her letter she stated that she hoped to hear from him soon and to give her family her best wishes and love. Her name was signed with elegant penmanship at the bottom.

Wasting no time, Jones shot to his feet and walked out of the tent towards his home. He fished around for some spare notebook paper, a pencil, and sat himself down on the floor to write his reply.

* * *

_**A/N: One of my shorter chapters, I didn't have much planned for this one, and struggled with it a bit, but I think I found a balance here. I really didn't divulge much on Waylon's letter like I did with Liv's for the simple fact I didn't know what to write and how to make it sound like Waylon. So I deduced that summing it up would be better than screwing it up. This one also came out faster than usual because I'd been working on it in tandem with Chapter 8, so it slightly helped getting it out quicker.**_

_**CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM is always welcome.**_

_**Speaking of which:**_

_**TheForgottenSheikah: I thought it was a little too early for Liv to be pecking Waylon on the cheek, and I don't think he would have allowed her to get that close that soon. As for the muscle of his *fangirl swoon***_

_**SwirlyPasta: Well those "Rippled"'s were not only for your benefit, but the benefit of other Killer Croc fangirls that love to see those muscles of his in motion. I've also noticed my grammar errors and lack of words in this story as well, something I always seem to miss during my preliminary proof-readings. I need to find a Beta to take a look at these chapters, but alas I still have yet to procure one. Le sigh; anywho I didn't plan on doing a time skip, I have too much planned and will be introducing a new character into the midst of the Branson family, and a time skip just seemed too short and lazy to me. So I'm breaking the next four chapters down into seasons to help not only speed thing s along but to give me enough room to add plot points. I do hope you'll enjoy it!**_

_**JaquesRiddle: Thanks for the review!**_

_**PalaeoPanthalassa: Holy cheeze nits, I was wondering when I'd be seeing a review from you. I know you've been busy with your own story ("Abnormal" for those who haven't seen it yet, go check it out, it is awesome!) so I figured you'd jot something down when you had the time. And please don't feel bad the criticism you left me, I absolutely loved it. I squealed in delight when I saw you'd left some very good advice, and I plan on making use of it in the future. Thanks so much for it!**_

_**And to those of you who faved and alerted the story: Thanks so much, your continued support means so much to me!**_

_**PathlessSpore**_


	10. Epona

The Animal Inside  
Batman Fanfiction  
Waylon Jones/Killer Croc/OC  
Romance/Hurt/Comfort/Tragedy  
Chapter 10

Epona

_Epona (Instrumental) - Enya_

* * *

_**Winter**_

Olivia was out of the car before Logan could put in park. Hurriedly she ran up the front steps to a large mansion and pushed open the ornate front door. The inside was barely warmer than the out; she shed her winter coat and shook the snow from her hair as her parents talked in the large foyer. They were surrounded by a huge pile of luggage that was currently being shipped out the door by their old butler.

As soon as she came in her father, Drake Branson, looked up at her. Liv straightened her shoulders without meaning to. There was always something about the stern way her father looked at someone that made everyone nervous. He had the Branson eyes, startling green that seemed to stare into your soul. Liv almost cowered underneath his stall stature,

"Hello father..." she said meekly, he gave her a short nod of his head, "I came to see the two of you off for your vacation."

"How kind of you, Olivia." said her mother as she fussed with one of her suitcases, "Really Drake, when will Taylor be done packing our luggage; we are going to miss our flight."

"You will have patience..." her father replied dryly; her mother instantly stilled and clasped her hands in front of her, the picture perfect icon of the obedient wife. Olivia often wondered what he mother had been like before she was forced to marry Drake. She took good long look at the older woman before her and was suddenly met with the image of her future; Liv suppressed her shudder.

"I do hope you two will have a wonderful time. I know how much you detest the cold, Mother."

Amanda gave her a silent nod her head; her father, however, squared his broad shoulders and turned to his daughter. Olivia felt like disappearing through the floor at the cold glare she received,

"You will behave yourself this Holiday," he ordered sternly, his mouth a thin line beneath his neatly trimmed beard, "I don't want to hear about any nonsense when I return in the spring, do I make myself clear?"

Liv swallowed, "Perfectly."

"You've been an absolute embarrassment these last few months," Drake continued on, "No lady stays inside her house for so long, it raises unnecessary questions that I shouldn't have to answer!"

She opened her mouth to reply, but a slightly more cheerful voice wandered in through the front door,

"Oh, don't be so hard on girl. Even a Branson lady needs a break from her social life every once in a while!"

Liv swore she saw her father cringe, "Mother..." he said dryly to the much older woman sweeping in. She was a short old lady with neatly permed hair. She wore an expensive navy blue suit and jewelry; she threw her fur coat onto Olivia's mother, who cried out surprise. Liv fought to hide her smile as Grandmother Branson looked up at her tall son and smiled at him,

"Now don't worry, I'll take good care of my dear Granddaughter while you're away, I'll make sure she gets out and she doesn't become the biggest disgrace to the family since the day you married your harlot."

"Mother..." growled Liv's father as Amanda reeled in shock. But Grandmother Branson didn't seem to care, she turned to the door and shouted as loud as she could,

"Kim!"

A young lady came bursting through the front door, nearly knocking liv to the ground. She gave a breathless heave as she came up to her mistresses side,

"Yes, Mrs. Branson?"

"Be a dear, sweetie, and help their dear old butler pack their luggage. I want my son's harlot out of my hair as soon as possible."

Liv's father completely gave up on his mother; instead he relieved his wife of her mother in law's coat and led her out the door by the arm. Liv's grandmother gave a triumphant smile and turned to her,

"Sweetheart, I really don't give a damn what you do this Holiday, though you should probably attend a party or two to appease your father. Now dear, where do your parents keep the good sherry?"

After making sure her grandmother was comfortable with her sherry, Liv left the house. Logan smiled at her through the rear-view as she got in and they drove away,

"And how is Madame Branson?"

Her laughter answered his question; Olivia loved her grandmother, she had a better sense of humor than most of her family put together. She had no problem voicing her opinions, especially that of her mother, both whom hated each other with an undying passion. But Liv it seemed was not part of Grandmother Branson's obvious distaste, she was the only one who went out of her way to spoil her granddaughter whenever possible.

It took them almost an hour to get back to her penthouse in the city. The doorman greeted her as she walked by. Liv nodded in return and took the elevator to her floor and let herself inside. Logan was just walking through the door as she was checking her mail. She had tossed a huge portion of it in the trash and was currently smiling at the familiar handwriting of one in particular.

"I'll be in my room, Logan," she called walking down the hall. When she was finally alone and in her chair she ripped open the letter and looked at the contents within. In the past few months Waylon had begun to write more and more in his letters, even going as far as to talk about himself for a bit.

_Liv,_

_Nothing much has been going on since the winter season hit. Circus usually takes a break from it's travel and let's the workers head home. Which means I'm stuck here in New York until goddamn Spring. I fucking hate the cold. There isn't much to do but sit inside when I'm not needed, and TV gets boring after a while. I think I'll just seep through the whole damn winter..._

_Steven, Carrie, and the kids left for the inner city a few days ago; they'll probably get a hotel and enjoy the season there. They told me to say "Hi" to you and they can't wait to see you in the summer._

_And Becky's been doing well with her lessons, she's reading short books to anyone who'll listen. She says she's hoping to be able to read bigger books for you when you come to visit next; she's very excited._

Liv smiled as he talked about Becky some more before signing his name at the bottom. It took her a half hour to pen her reply; she was coming out of her room as she was sealing the envelope catching the eye of her faithful bodyguard. She noticed his disapproving stare as she set down the letter,

"Well I can't just give him my mailing address and then ignore him," she snapped defensively, "That's so rude."

Her companion kept silent, going back to his book with a cocked brow, a frown, and a shake of his head. Liv scowled at him; she didn't need his approval, all was she was doing was being a good friend and replying to Waylon's letters likes she had promised to. There was nothing wrong with that.

* * *

Waylon rubbed his hands together, trying to generate warmth in his fingers. Long sleeved shirts in his size were hard to come by, so he was grateful that the circus had managed to find him one before stopping for the winter season. He hated the cold, all he wanted to do when it was freezing out was sleep.

But Becky liked the winter time because she got to play out in the snow, and that usually meant he was walking around with her. Today she had drug him out into the field behind the New York Fairgrounds where she was trying to build a snowman, with Waylon's help of course. He had helped her start off the base and he watched with amusement as she rolled it around in the snow, often asking if she was doing alright,

"You're doing fine, kid."

An hour passed and soon she had finished with the body and the head. Using his nails, Waylon drew a face into snowman. Becky laughed and clapped as he picked her up and ruffled her head, skewing her winter hat,

"C'mon, " he said as he tromped back to the trailers with her in his arms, "Let's see if they've got any hot chocolate for you. That sound good?"

"Yeah, are you gonna have some?"

Jones grumbled out a chuckle, "Chocolate and milk does bad things to my stomach, Becky."

When they got back to the relative safety of the homes, he released Becky into the care of Nan. The old woman nodded in thanks and took the little girl by the hands, leaving Waylon out in the cold,

"Another letter for you, Waylon..." came a timid voice to his right. He turned around to find the Ringmasters errand boy holding out a large brown envelope for him,

"Thanks..." he muttered, tearing it free and sending the kid running yet again. Eagerly, he opened it and noted the familiar scent of Liv's perfume and to his surprise she'd sent a gift along this time. Inside he pulled out a knitted scarf along with her letter.

Instead of standing out in the cold like a complete moron he retreated to the safety of his house. He closed and locked the door, flicked on the lights, and threw himself onto his bed to read Liv's letter.

_Waylon,_

_Considering how much you mentioned you hate the cold, I sent along a gift for you. I know it's not much, but it should help. It's cold here in Gotham too, snow's just starting to fall and it looks so beautiful mixed with the city lights. I usually spend most of my time in doors when it's so cold out, but I got in trouble with my father for my lack of social interaction with the "High Society" of Gotham._

_Which is why I'm glad my parent's have gone south for the season, my mother absolutely despises the cold, perhaps even more than you do. Father goes because he can get important business clients, which is all he ever cares about these days._

_On a happier note, my grandmother has come to Gotham from Colorado this winter to keep an eye on me. She's one of the better members of the Branson family, and definitely has a better sense a humor; though she tends to be a bit opinionated. She and my mother absolutely hate each other, for whatever odd reason._

_I'm glad to hear Becky's studies are going well, and I can't wait to hear what she's going to read to me. How is she doing by the way, I want to get her a present for Christmas and I was considering a book in braille but I don't know how well she can read it yet._

_And what about you? Can I get you anything for this Christmas holiday? I'm going to be alone, and I'd rather spend my money on one of my friends than on myself._

_Give my family my love when you next see them, and please be safe out there Waylon. I do worry about you._

_Liv_

Waylon smiled at her generosity. It didn't take long for him to find his stack of writing paper and a pencil. Ever since he and Liv had started communicating he had made sure to have a large stock pile just in case. However, unlike so many times before, he took longer writing out his reply than usual. It was easy to give Liv a recommendation for Becky's book, but for himself?

He really didn't know what to ask for even if he did want something from her. And to be honest, he didn't want her to spend his money on him; she had already given him the scarf and that was more than enough in his book. So he penned out the rest of his reply, sealed it up in an envelope, and set it on his dresser so he could send it out tomorrow.

After he was done he took up the scarf she'd sent him. It was a nice gesture; when he'd told her how much he hated the cold, it was only to make conversation. He never would have guessed she'd respond with something so kind, no other normal person would have done something like this for him.

Liv really was something else, he thought with a smile.

* * *

Soft music trickled in from the Iceberg Lounges speakers above. It was one of Oswald's more low key get-togethers, but it was nice nonetheless. Liv stood near the back, actively avoiding her fiance as she kept a look out for him and his gang of friends. She was in no mood for Jackson snide comments about her deteriorating mental health, or whatever backhanded comment he usually had prepared.

She had hoped that Oswald himself would be out talking among the guests, but he was mysteriously absent. For several minutes Liv debated on whether or not she should go looking for him. The sound of Jackson calling her name instantly made her decision and she disappeared into the back rooms of the lounge.

It didn't take long for her to find Ozzy, all she had to do was following the sound of his voice yelling in anger,

"What do ya mean they bloody knew!" he screamed irritably as Liv came up to one solid wooden door. She paused outside, her heart hammering in her chest, "How much of the shipment did we lose?"

"The shipment?" came a thick yet slightly timid voice, "Mr. Cobblepot, Sir-"

A loud bang echoed out into the hallway, as if Oswald had slammed his fist onto a table, "Let me make this simple for ya, Boy," Ozzy threatened dangerously, "I buy my goods with the money I make to sell to the highest bidder. If I don't have my goods, I don't sell, and if I don't sell I get very pissed off and none of ya get paid! _Do I make myself clear!_"

It was very quiet on the other side of the door until Oswald huffed and growled in his thick accent, "Smashing, now I want a letter sent to Carmine Falcone saying that if his boys don't sod off I'm gonna take a pop at that son of his."

"Yes, Mr. Cobblepot..."

Liv backed away from the door worriedly at the sound of shuffling feet. Something told her that Oswald wouldn't take to kindly to eavesdroppers, even if he did know her, so within a flash she had made herself scarce. Olivia knew she wasn't quick or quiet enough in heels to efficiently get herself down the hall without being seen. So she took a chance on the nearest unlocked door and slipped in.

A few men passed her hiding place, grumbling just loud enough for her to hear, "That little bastard has a lot of nerve..."

"Shut up "Loose Lips", what if Tracey or that other broad of his heard you? Do you know how fast Cobblepot'd throw you in the dumpster? Same thing happened to Frankie last week when he was mouthin' off without lookin'."

She waited until everything became quiet before peeking her head out. No one was in the halls and she quickly made a break back to the party. She didn't know what kind of business Oswald was running behind the scenes, and a part of her really didn't want to find out.

* * *

Liv tried to put the conversation she overheard out of her head for the next few days. Christmas was coming up in three weeks and she still had yet to obtain a gift for Waylon. Becky's book, "Where the Sidewalk Ends", she managed to special order specifically in braille and it was ready to be sent out just in time for the Holiday. However, she was having a hard time browsing for Waylon, who stated that while her generosity was nice he didn't need or want anything in his last letter.

Olivia simply shook her head and refused to take no for answer. If he wouldn't tell her, then she'd just have to guess. So, with Logan in tow, she went to the department store to browse.

She window shopped for a few hours debating on what to get him. Nothing too complicated, she had to be able to send it with her letter, but she wanted it to be nice nonetheless. She considered a a set of cologne, but she didn't want Waylon to take it the wrong way, and she didn't know what to get him book wise because she didn't know what kind of materials he was interested in.

She supposed she could go the good old fashioned way and get him some shirts to wear, but that would mean she'd have to special order his clothes since nothing came in his size. And that also meant she needed to guess his measurements, since there was no time to ask and have his present out in time for Christmas.

But there was a way she could remedy that, after all being rich did come with a few benefits.

It took an hour to get to the fashion district, and only a few minutes to argue with the secretary who sat at her desk,

"I'm sorry Ma'm, but Mr. Tatterton is not seeing anyone today."

Liv huffed angrily and opened her mouth to argue; however the office door to their right burst open and a tall, yet lanky man came sweeping in. He wore horn rimmed glasses sitting on the edge of his nose, allowing his eyes to look over them as he scrutinized his secretary.

"Eliza, whatever seems to be the problem?" Before the poor woman could reply, Liv locked eyes with the man and a smile spread across his shapely features, "Never mind, cancel my appointments. Come on in Liv."

Olivia smiled triumphantly at Eliza before turning to Logan, "Go get something to eat, I'm going to be a while."

Her bodyguard dipped his head and Liv followed after Francis Tatterton, closing the door with a firm snap. Instead of an office the room was a large workshop; sketch paper littered the work benches and floors, designs covered nearly every inch of the wall. Racks of clothes sat against the windows over looking the city.

She followed him to one of his neater workbenches where empty pieces of sketch paper sat in a pile. Pencils littered the top of the desk, shining in the light the work lamp provided. Francis smiled at her as he tried his best to tidy up,

"Sorry about the mess, Liv dear; what brings you to my studio today, and so close to the Christmas holiday?"

"I need a favor." she said simply, making Francis laugh,

"Right to the point, aren't we? What do you need?"

Liv hesitated for a moment, wringing her hands nervously, "How fast can you make a special order?"

Mr. Tatterton tapped his chin thoughtfully, cocking a brow as his blue eyes glittered at her, "Well that depends on what I'm making, I'm going to guess these clothes need to be in a specific size that's not sold in stores." Liv nodded wordlessly, allowing her friend to continue, "Then at least a few days, maybe a week depending on the measurements you give me. What's the size?"

Olivia gave him a nervous laugh, shedding her winter coat so she could lay it over the back of a nearby chair, "That's the problem, he's a pretty big guy and I don't think I could give an exact size for him."

Immediately he grabbed one his sketch pads; Francis was one of the best in the business for his innate ability to guess measurements due to the descriptions given by his clients. He drew out what they told him and was able to dish their order within a few days. He looked eagerly at Liv as he waited for her to start.

"Before you start, can you hand me a tape measure?" When she had it hand she set down one end and pulled it out until about eight and a half feet. Francis's eyes bulged as Liv eyed the numbers, "That's an approximate, he slouches a little so he may be a little taller than that."

"Jesus Liv," Exclaimed her friend, "What is this guy on, Superhero steroids?"

Olivia shrugged, "Well I told you he was big; anyway he's broader in the shoulders and has a long yet slim waistline."

Tatterton returned to his pad, quickly sketching out the description she gave him. About an hour later he showed her a rough draft of Waylon. He gazed at his work for a long time,

"Definitely going to take about a week; do you have any ideas on what kind of clothes you want to give him?"

"Let's stick with shirts for now."

Francis nodded in relief.

* * *

_Do Not Open Until Christmas!_

Waylon eyed the box Liv had sent him. It was a neatly wrapped present with bright red bow tied around it. Her handwriting screamed at him in big fancy letters, warning him that if he opened it before hand she'd know about it. He'd already read the message she'd sent with the package; nothing much stated in it, just how bored she was and how much she was looking forward to warmer weather.

But that damn box was tempting.

Twas the night before Christmas, he thought to himself in amusement. He set the box on his dresser so he could forget about until morning, but it didn't help that he spent most of that night in his room drinking and watching TV. He could see it in his peripheral vision, just sitting there waiting.

Well shit, now it was mocking him...

With an irritable grunt Waylon flipped off the TV and the lights, grabbed his blankets, and tried to get some shut eye. But all he could keep thinking about was: what was in the damn package? What the hell had Liv sent him? He didn't ask for anything from her, and in fact he specifically told her not to get anything for him.

Stubborn little redhead...

At some point he managed to nod off; he woke with a start, sitting up in his bed. It was still dark out and with a grumble he checked his digital clock. It was three in the fucking morning... He hissed in annoyance, but stilled when a thought came to him.

Technically, it was Christmas...

Waylon threw back his covers and fumbled with the lights for a moment. When he had them on, he grabbed Liv's package and threw himself back onto the bed. He ripped the box free of the wrapping paper and used a claw to tear at the masking tape sealing it.

Another neatly wrapped present lay at the top; he smiled at the tag. It was for Becky, a book Liv had probably ordered just for the kid. He took it out, set it to the side, and kept digging. To his surprise he found a decent stack of shirts folded smoothly inside. A note had been tucked away, prompting him to read it first,

_Waylon,_

_I really had to guess on your size, so if these are too small for you send them back with the right measurements and I'll be sure to correct it._

_Liv_

Waylon felt a smile tug a his mouth as he grabbed a dark blue shirt and held it up. He chuckled at the writing, "_I'd flex, but I like this shirt." _Without thinking about it, he stood up and slipped it on. It fit just fine; a little big, but he'd rather it be large than too tight. A few more tops followed after, varying between interesting graphic tees and button up collared shirts.

Something warm flickered in his chest at Olivia kindness; all his life he had been judged by the world for the way he looked. No one ever took the time to actually get to know him, because he either chased them away or erected a wall no one bothered to climb, but Liv...

Liv was stubbornly worming her way past it in an effort to see the person he really was.

He never believed her when she said she had seen his skin and didn't care about it; on some level people always did.

But maybe...

Maybe he'd been wrong about Liv. Maybe she was different.

And that small fire flickering in his chest, that hope she had kindled in him...

It confused him now more than ever.

* * *

_**A/N: This is actually one of the longest chapters I've written in my career in Fanfiction; a feat of which I'm very proud of, and a definite improvement from the last chapter I must say. So I hope this baby makes up for the last update!**_

_**Darkwolf1121: I'll be honest with you, I'm still relatively new to the DC universe and I have no idea who The Rogues are. I may incorporate the Flying Graysons if it fits, but I am trying to do as many nods to the criminals as best I can. As for fluff, it's so hard to write Waylon in fluff, because I'm trying so hard to keep him in character.**_

_**Sango1316: Glad to see you enjoyed the last two chapters, I hope you keep reading!**_

_**To my new fans who Favorited and Alerted: Thanks so much, your support means a lot to me!**_

_**And don't forget to give me some CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM!**_

_**PathlessSpore **_


	11. What Happens Tomorrow

The Animal Inside  
Batman Fanfiction  
Waylon Jones/Killer Croc/OC  
Romance/Hurt/Comfort/Tragedy  
Chapter 11  
What Happens Tomorrow

_But nobody knows what's gonna happen tomorrow_  
_We'll try not to show how frightened we are_

_What Happens Tomorrow - Duran Duran _

* * *

_**Spring**_

Winter passed in a blurry haze after Christmas. Soon enough, the days became warm and the snow began to melt. Sleet turned to rain, and the flowers and trees began to bloom. When Liv opened her windows on a nice day she smiled, soon Summer would be here and she'd get to see Waylon again. There were days she managed to slip out of the house and go to the Gotham Park. It was beautiful there, green and life amongst a dangerous and dreary city. But in her heart Liv knew that even that kind of beauty could hide thorns and poison ivy.

Eventually, her parent's returned from their vacation. Amanda had shopped to her heart's content, showing off the foreign jewelry she'd purchased. Drake had come home a few thousand dollars richer and with a much larger clientele. Grandmother Branson returned to Colorado with little fuss, and Liv was forced to return to her socialite lifestyle.

The Sullivan's threw more and more extravagant get-togethers with each passing month; the talk of marriage between Jackson and Liv was starting to increase as well. Everyone knew they were engaged but none knew if they'd set a date for the ceremony. Talk was that Jackson was getting the last of his affairs together before tying the knot; it was starting to make Olivia panic.

She had no fall back plan if she did end up walking out on her family. Her father would cut off her funds, throw into the street, and leave her to fend for herself. With no Plan B in place she knew her survival would be slim, and she wasn't interested in whoring herself out to get by. She supposed she could try and revive her career as a singer, but she knew she'd be in a world of trouble if her parents found out. She was to be the epitome of the perfect housewife, according to her mother, she wasn't supposed to have dreams or a job.

But she knew she couldn't avoid the marriage forever.

Liv usually spent her time trying to keep her mind off the small talk behind closed doors. She and Waylon were writing to each other almost on a weekly basis now. Every time she read his letters she always found herself smiling. They'd gotten progressively longer to the point where the envelopes he sent his messages in were almost bulging.

And his letters weren't the only ones she was answering. Her brother had managed to obtain her mailing address sometime after the Holidays. His mail mostly chewed her out for not writing his family as well as Waylon, but stated that he understood why. Carrie had sent a note of her own saying she was glad Liv was talking to Waylon, as he needed someone to open up to. She said she was starting to notice a difference in him, as small as it was.

However, today she would have to wait to answer her mail. She had been invited the night prior to a lunch with Oswald. Needless to say she was a tad nervous; she still remembered the conversation she'd overheard a few months ago, and she loathed to see his reaction if he ever found out she'd eavesdropped.

She met Ozzy in a quaint restaurant in Upper Gotham; the stout man was already waiting for her, talking to a young woman with blonde hair. Their conversation ceased once Liv was within earshot; with a quick jerk of his head Oswald sent the woman on her way,

"Liv, my dear, how ya doing today?"

Liv shrugged her shoulders and she her jacket, "Okay, I guess."

He gave her a sympathetic gaze as she draped her jacket over the chair and sat down, "I've been 'earing that Mr. Sullivan has getting his affairs in order; looks like marriage is gonna be in yer future after all, Olivia."

"Please, don't remind me," she replied, putting her face into her hands, "Can we just talk about something else?"

Oswald agreed and the pair ordered lunch. They had a nice time talking about little mundane things in their lives. Business was going great for Oswald; he'd just recently bought an old ship and had plans to turn into a casino of sorts, but it was very decrepit and would require a year or two of work before it would become functional again.

"So how's yer brother been?" Oswald inquired, Olivia shrugged as she picked at her salad,

"Good, from what I hear. I only just started writing to him recently."

"Oh, and who have ya been talking to then?" She felt herself blush, earning a laugh from Ozzy, "Someone ya fancy, hmm? My my, Miss Olivia, whatever will the press say."

"Oh, stop it Oswald," she replied teasingly, "I doubt he even likes me; besides when I met him he looked like he needed a friend."

"He's a nice bloke?"

"Yeah, little rough around the edges, but he's sweet even if he doesn't like to admit it."

"What's his name, sweet?"

Liv smiled, "Waylon Jones."

Oswald laughed at the dreamy look on her face. But soon enough they had to part ways, he was busy with his work and she needed to get home; Jackson was throwing yet another gathering over at his family's mansion and he expressed his desire for her to be present. So she spent most of her evening getting ready.

As night fell on the city Logan drove them to Gotham Heights were the Sullivan mansion loomed over the hillside. It looked depressing from a distance, and the feeling only got worse as they got closer. When her bodyguard parked their car and escorted her inside the grand foyer was already filled with guests.

Instantly she drew a crowd,

"Congratulations, Miss Branson..." was all she heard from the older women, showering her in praise and telling her how happy she should be. Confusedly she thanked them, looking for anyone who'd tell her what was going on.

She didn't have to look far.

"Olivia, my pet, I was starting to wonder if you'd gotten lost."

Jackson wrapped an arm around her shoulders. He was dressed impeccably tonight in his black suit. His blonde hair was swept back out of his face, and with a cocked brow he led her to the front of the crowd,

"As many of you know, my dear Olivia and I have been engaged for nearly three years now. The reason I haven't yet 'Tied the knot'," he chuckled earning a small laugh from the crowd, "is because I wanted to have all my affairs in order. That way I'd be able to provide Olivia a life of luxury and relaxation. I've decided to throw this wonderful party tonight to celebrate our our official engagement!"

The crowd gasped and Liv's stomach dropped as Jackson procured a small box from his pocket. With that ever dashing smile on his face, he fell to one knee and opened it. A sparkling diamond ring greeted her as cheers echoed through the foyer,

"Olivia Branson, will you become my wife?"

There was no excuse she could come up with; in that moment Olivia panicked. She saw her life flash before her eyes, and in her future she saw herself become as old and as bitter as her mother. Before she could outright faint on the floor, Liv turned on her heel and disappeared up the grand staircase. She found the nearest room, slammed the door shut, and as she slid to the floor with door at her back she started to cry.

* * *

_**Summer**_

Liv hadn't written to him in weeks now. Everyday he waited for the owners errand boy to come running up to him with her letter, but he always gave him that apologetic look when he had nothing for him. Her brother was even starting to get worried, and it relieved them both that they were finally going back to Gotham within the next week.

But Waylon had a feeling that there was something wrong with Liv.

Summer was starting to fully set in now, the days got longer and hotter and the work became more consistent. However, today, the circus was mostly concentrating on getting to Gotham on time. They'd stopped for a break at a roadside gas station; some performers had put on a small show for passersby, while Waylon just sat with his back up against his house sunning himself.

"Thirsty Jones?" Waylon cracked an eye open and saw Steven hold out a large bottle of water for him. He grabbed and popped open the cap as Branson sat down next to him, "Circus just got another complaint filed against them. Sexual harassment."

Waylon snorted, the way Steven said it he knew he wasn't supposed to be a surprise, "Do I even have to guess who?" He spat bitterly, "Why the fuck does Corliss even keep Muscovy's ass around?"

Branson shrugged his shoulders, "Apparently he's damn good at his job."

"You heard from Olivia yet?" Waylon shot a glance at Steven, who shook his head,

"Nah, but something's up. Liv wouldn't ignore us like this unless something was wrong."

They sat in silence for a little bit, "You think Muscovy's harassment charges will slow us down?"

"Doubt it," replied Steven, "Corliss'll just pay off the fines like he always does. Why, you interested in seeing my sister again?"

There was no teasing tone in Branson's voice, when Waylon chanced a glance at him, the young man was giving him an evil eye,

"Fuck off, Branson," snapped Waylon, throwing back another swing of water, "I don't need your shit."

Olivia's brother didn't say anything, instead he stood up, dusted off his pants, and walked away. Jones scowled at his retreating back and finished off the last of his water. He didn't need Steven's goddamn approval.

_Approval for what? _Said a nagging voice in the back of his mind. Waylon scoffed, how the fuck was he supposed to know, whatever it was it made Liv's brother hostile.

_Maybe because Steven is seeing something you're not._

Yeah, like what? Olivia was the one who was being kind to him. All he was doing was returning to favor.

_Really, so you don't like her?_

Wait, what?

_Don't play stupid, Jones, you're starting to like her. And I'm not talking in a being friends sort of way._

Okay, that was just fucking nuts. Even if he did like her like that, and he wasn't saying he did, there was no way in hell she'd ever fall for a guy as ugly as he was. He was covered from head to toe in scales, had teeth and nails sharp enough to rip her to shreds, and not to mention a piss poor personality.

_Olivia doesn't seem to think so, _pointed out the annoying voice, Waylon snarled fiercely and shook his head in retaliation, _Hiss and growl all you like, but you know I'm right._

"Yeah," he muttered under his breath, moving to stand up. The circus had just gotten word they'd be moving soon. He stepped back into his trailer and locked the door, bracing himself as the truck that hauled his home lurched forward, "How do you figure that?"

That damn annoying voice in his head chuckled with amusement, _Because, Waylon Jones, I'm the voice in _your_ head..._

* * *

This wasn't happening to her, this couldn't be happening to her. Olivia had managed to save some face by playing off her reaction as just nerves, saying she felt as if she was going to be sick and would have rather settled her stomach in private than in front of other people. But that didn't take away the fact that she'd be marrying Jackson Sullivan within the next few weeks.

She'd been panicking for weeks on end now; Logan, always her stalwart companion, did his best to try and console her, but Liv couldn't help feeling trapped. She needed a plan, something to get her out of this marriage. Without funds to support her she had no choice, and her father kept a close eye on her bank accounts so she couldn't spirit away money. It was as if he knew she'd try to run; she should have started saving up sooner, hell she should have done a lot of things but it was too late now. Liv had one of two choices, lie in the grave she'd dug for herself or try and get out.

After Jackson's proposal Spring flew by into the Summer months. Liv now spent all of her time actively avoiding her family, deliberately not answering her phone or her door. She hadn't even written back to her brother or Waylon for that matter, and it really made her feel bad. She sat at her desk going over the last letter he'd sent her, it was a few days old. In it he questioned if she was feeling well, stating it had been some time since she'd replied to his messages.

Suddenly, she stood up and went to her closet. The Circus was just setting up outside of the city now, while it wouldn't be open to the general public she hoped she'd be able to slip in. At this point, Liv just really wanted to talk to her brother.

"Miss Olivia?" She knew she'd garner attention from Logan the moment she stepped into the kitchen, she merely shrugged at him and grabbed the keys to her car,

"I'm going to go see my brother," she said and without another word she left.

Not surprisingly, the parking lot was sparse so she was able to park near the entrance. She quickly got out and locked her car. No one was at the gate so she slipped in virtually unnoticed. Various workers were setting up tents and stalls. She could smell food cooking near the Mess Area, and in the distance she could see the circle of trailers that made up the living area.

She made a beeline straight them, but stopped short when she saw a familiar figure come lumbering around the corner. Waylon didn't seem to notice her at first, but she watched as he stuck his nose up and furrowed his brow. He must have smelled her perfume, and then suddenly his eyes snapped down to her. Time seemed to slow as she felt a smile light up her face; without thinking she ran towards him in a full sprint and locked her arms around his waist as best she could when they met.

"Waylon," she said happily, "It's so good to see you again!"

* * *

_**A/N: It took a little while to get this one done, mostly because I kept re-writing the first paragraph over and over again. I'd love some CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM!**_

_**Speaking of which:**_

_**Darkwolf1121: Liv takes Sullivan's junk because she's in the middle of a moral dilemma, all of which will, hopefully, be explained better in a later chapter. And thanks for the information on the rogues, it'll be useful in the future.**_

_**TheForgottenSheikah: Thanks very much! As for Epona, I don't know which came first, I just though the song fit well with the chapter.**_

_**Swirlypasta: I try my darndest to keep Waylon in character, even when he is doing something as fluffy as being impatient. Thanks for your reviews, and for the advice!**_

_**Ace of Havoc: Thanks for the info on the rogues, if I do need any help I'll try and consult you!**_

_**PalaeoPanthalassa: D'aww your review made me feel all gushy inside!**_

_**And to those of you who Favorited and Alerted the story: thanks so much, your support means a lot to me!**_


	12. Ain't It Fun

The Animal Inside  
Batman Fanfiction  
Waylon Jones/Killer Croc/OC  
Romance/Hurt/Comfort/Tragedy  
Chapter 12  
Ain't It Fun

_So what are you gonna do_  
_When the world don't orbit around you_

_Ain't It Fun - Paramore_

* * *

Waylon watched as Liv and her brother argued heatedly before turning to let them have it out. It wasn't really any of his business why Liv had been a recluse for the past few weeks. Sure he had been worried, but he respected her enough not to pry and it was obvious she wasn't in the mood to talk about it. He lumbered away as quietly as he could, leaving Steven and Olivia in the Living Circle; he had a few chores to do before the day was out and he couldn't afford to waste time listening to the two siblings bicker,

"You could have been dead for all I knew!" Waylon heard Steve yell,

"Leave it to you to jump to the worst possible conclusion!" Liv screamed back. Jones rolled his eyes and kept going. A few minutes later he arrived at his show tent and walked in towards the back. Lockjaw had already been prodded into his cage, contentedly sunning himself under the heat lamps. Waylon paused with his hand on the gate; he needed to clean the grit out from Jaw's scales and files his nails down a bit. Getting at his teeth was a bitch and not worth getting his arm chewed on.

Bringing the tools in would be no problem, but Jaw didn't like being cleaned and often put up a fight. Waylon usually had to pin his mouth shut through the entire ordeal, and book it out as fast as he could when he was finished. Bringing in another person, he decided, would be more efficient than doing the chore on his own.

Before he could turn around, however, a familiar scent caught his attention,

"How long you been there?"

"About five minutes," Liv replied, "You didn't notice before?"

Waylon smirked and turned to face her. She was sitting at the end of one of the bleachers, her elbows resting on her knees,

"Nah," he said with a shrug, "should feel proud though. Not a lot of people can sneak up on me."

He cleared his throat and walked behind the bleachers looking for his tool chest. He had been looking at her and was reminded of the incident that occurred a half hour ago.

She had hugged him, and it wasn't a light squeeze around the waist. She had tried her damnedest to lock her arms around him as hard as she could, she had smiled at him because she was so happy to see him.

Usually, when someone blatantly disrespected his no touching policy said person often ended up being tossed a couple yards. Very few were exempt from this rule, Becky being one of them, and he enforced it with an iron fist. But Liv wrapped those arms of hers around him and suddenly his mind drew an abrupt blank. He supposed to be pissed off, but a warm tension filled his stomach and made his freeze. He didn't know what to do with his hands. Tossing her away was out of the question, he didn't want to hurt her just make her let go.

But a part of him didn't want her to stop.

He so confused and at war with himself; thankfully Liv chose that moment to look up and realize what she'd been doing. Waylon watched as she flushed red with embarrassment and jumped back,

"Waylon," she cried, "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean-"

"Forget about it." he'd replied awkwardly, and in order to ease some of the tension he took her to her brother. But she was here now, and his mind refused to be quiet. Eventually he found what he was looking for, and he easily shouldered the large container,

"Do you need help?" she called nervously making him pause. He wouldn't ask her to do anything dangerous, but it'd make his life easier if she did help,

"Yeah," he set down the chest, "When I have Lockjaw pinned down drag the chest over and hand me what I ask for."

Liv hopped down from the bleachers excitedly as Waylon stepped into the Plexiglas cage. Jaw's eyes snapped open and a low hiss erupted from his throat. Jones held out his hands casually as he approached slowly,

"Are you going to be alright?"

"Yeah," he replied shortly, staring into the gator's eyes, "Just don't distract me."

When he was a good three feet within the gator Jaw's tensed up. He hissed loudly and in a flash Jones jumped on him. They wrestled on the ground for a minute or two before Lockjaw was finally pinned down, grumbling unhappily. Liv had managed to drag the chest over to the wall of the cage.

The pair worked in relative silence for a good hour and a half. Waylon spent most of the time working the dirt out from Lockjaw's scales. The gator didn't put up much of a fuss, only hissing when Jones caused some sort of discomfort. Eventually he finished up; he carefully stood keeping both hands wrapped around the reptiles large mouth,

"I want you to open the cage door for me, alright?" he said slowly, Liv scrambled to do as she was told while Waylon drug Lockjaw with him. Keeping the gator inside the cage, the man himself stepped out and quickly Olivia closed the gate. Quickly Waylon let go and braced a hand against Liv, pushing her back as Lockjaw hissed and snapped his teeth. The gator then quickly raced back to the sun lamp,

"You take really good care of him." noted Liv as she smiled at him. Waylon shrugged his shoulders,

"Well someone's got to," he said which earned him a laugh,

"Oh, don't play it off like it's some sort of civic duty. I think it's cute."

Jones huffed at her in amusement, "I hope you heard that," he called teasingly to the gator, "She called you cute!"

"I meant you too, dork." she nudged him playfully in the thigh; from behind them a set of footsteps entered the tent. He turned around and to his surprise he found Mr. Corliss walking in. He wore a big smile as his eyes studied Liv curiously,

"Good afternoon, Waylon," he said cheerfully, "I didn't realize you had a guest today." He turned his charming smile to Liv and eagerly took her hand in his own, "Bartholomew Corliss at your service, m'dear."

"Olivia Branson, sir."

"If I may ask why you are here; the carnival doesn't open until tomorrow."

Liv flushed red again and stammered, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to trespass; I was just so impatient to see Waylon and my brother again I didn't think about the consequences. Please don't be upset at Waylon, if you should blame anyone it's me."

Corliss chuckled lightheartedly, "Now, m'dear, I'm not upset, just curious. However, I'd ask in the event of future visits that you call ahead. This is quite a dangerous place to the unprepared and I'd hate for something unfortunate and tragic to happen because of someone else's carelessness."

"Of course, sir."

"Now, if you two don't mind I'll keep moving. There is much to do before tomorrow."

With a tip of his top hat Corliss let himself out. He was good man, and Waylon owed a lot to him. He was the one that allowed him to stay in the circus, who gave him a home and a family to call his own,

"Well he's nice," said Liv, "But he's right, I should have called ahead instead of popping in."

"No harm done," grunted Waylon as he stashed his tool chest in the back again, "You stayin' for dinner?"

"I probably shouldn't overstay my welcome," Liv said carefully, "But I'll be back tomorrow, I promise, now that you're here we'e going to have so much fun!"

Her enthusiasm was almost contagious; she waved goodbye and walked away,

"Hey Liv," she paused to look back at him, a hand holding back the tent flaps. Waylon cleared his throat again and shrugged, "It was -uh- good to see you again."

"It was good to see you too," she replied softly, "I'll see you tomorrow."

* * *

The sun was just setting over the horizon when Liv returned to her penthouse. She hummed happily as she walked through her front door and into her kitchen. With a slight skip in her step she set down her keys and purse; she went to smile at Logan but it faltered when she saw the serious look on his face,

"There is a guest waiting for you in your study, Miss Olivia." he said shorty,

Olivia frowned, "Who?"

"Your fiance, m'am."

That good feeling she had took a running leap out the window. A cold stone fell into her stomach as she walked down the hallway to her study at the end. She opened it and found Jackson standing with his back to her, staring out the picture window at the streets below,

"Did you have pleasant afternoon, pet?"

"Yes," she replied carefully. Her fiance refused to turn to her as she slowly approached the desk that stood in between them,

"Where did you disappear off to; the last I heard you'd been actively avoiding people?"

Her guard flew up as she sat in the available chair, "No where important, dear, I simply decided to go out for a nice afternoon on the town."

"So you didn't go see your brother at Carnival setting up outside Gotham?"

It took all her willpower not to jump out of her chair; was he spying on her?

"I don't know what you mean-"

Jackson sighed irritably and finally turned around; he sat in the office chair opposite of her and began to rub his right temple furiously,

"Don't play stupid with me Olivia," he said wearily, "I wasn't born yesterday. I'm going to be frank with you: I honestly don't give a damn what you do in your free time, just make sure whatever it is your doing doesn't sully my reputation."

"Very well, dear," she said through clenched teeth, "Any other grievances you'd like to air out?"

"Don't give me your condescending attitude, Olivia."

"Said the pot to the kettle."

"Enough," cried Jackson, slamming his palm against the table, "I didn't come here to argue with you!"

"Then what are you here for?" Liv crossed her arms and glared at Jackson,

"I realize that this marriage is an inconvenience to you, as well as to me."

"Oh really?"

Jackson snarled at her, "Believe me if I had my way I wouldn't even be here now to talking to you."

"Well, dear husband to be, at least the feeling is mutual."

"Shut up," he snapped, "As I was saying this marriage inconveniences the both of us. I have no wish to bond myself to you, but as luck would have it I am forced to. However, I'm willing to postpone the marriage for another year."

"Why?"

"Are you going to look a gift horse in the mouth?"

Why would he be willing to postpone the marriage? It made no sense; he had all of his affairs in order, he'd given her the damn ring, so why? She looked at him as he awaited her answer, but as she did another thought popped in.

Maybe not all of his affairs were dealt with...

"What's her name?"

He visibly jumped at the question, his eyes narrowing down at her, "What on earth are you insinuating?"

"Don't stupid with me, Jackson," she quipped, "I wasn't born yesterday: What's her name?"

It was silent for a long tense moment. His eyes flicked away from her own as he sighed softly,

"Emily, her name is Emily."

"She's nice?"

"Very," he said, Olivia saw the faintest flicker of a smile. Oh, how stupid could she have been? It was so idiotic of her to think she was the only one being forced to give up her freedom and dreams.

"You know," she played with the tips of her nails, "You could just call off this wedding and be done with it. You could be with Emily."

"Even you know that's impossible." Replied Jackson shortly,

"Look all my father wants is an heir to his empire; let Wayne tech buy him out, I don't care-"

"Olivia, the way you're talking is starting to make me think you don't really know what's going on."

"What do you mean?" The pair locked eyes prompting a chuckle to erupt from Jackson's lips,

"You really don't know?"

"Don't know what? Damn it, tell me?"

He leaned back in the chair and laced his fingers, a flicker of amusement in his eyes, "Tell me, my pet, why do you think we're getting married?"

"Because my father needs an heir to the Branson Empire." she replied simply, her fiance shook his head, as if he couldn't believe she was this dense,

"Inheriting your father's empire is all well and good, or at least it would be if there was anything substantial left of it to take." Her confused stare made him laugh even more, "I can't even believe they didn't tell you, even after the debt you ran up with parents, but I can see it still confuses you so allow me to put it simply."

He braced his hands on the desk as he stood up, leaning over to give her that smile of his,

"My dear Olivia, it is your marriage to me that will save your parent's from the poor house, and if you don't, how shall we say, tie the knot? Well, I can guarantee that there are plenty of people in Lower Gotham that would _love _to wring your father's neck."

Liv felt like a ton of bricks had been dropped on her; Jackson, with that damn condescending smile, traversed around the desk and placed a firm hand on her shoulder,

"Take the year, pet," he said softly, "Because when it's up, why you'll be your family's hero."

She listened to him laugh as he walked out and closed the study door behind him with a firm snap.

* * *

**_Whew, finally done. I'm sorry that took so long. In the beginning I ran into some writers block. I bashed my way through that pretty easily though, but as luck would have it I actually lost the original file for this chapter. Which means I had to rewrite chapter 12 from memory because I forgot to back it up on my flash drive._**

**_*slaps self on wrist* Bad PathlessSpore, that was very careless of you!_**

**_So anyway, plot! I really hope you enjoyed it and I'm looking forward to the reviews!_**

**_Speaking of which:_**

**_Undercover Skeleton: I totally get what you're saying, so I kind of hope this chapter makes up for the lack of Jackson that we usually see._**

**_Reconsdaughter: Aww, thanks! I thought it'd be an interesting story concept too!_**

**_TheForgottenSheikah: Thanks!_**

**_PalaeoPanthalassa: Well you're just going to have to wait and see how this plays out. However, my biggest fear is that I really screw up the romance between the two. I know Waylon's not the romantic, touchy feely kind of guy, and he won't admit his feelings right off the bat (haha bat..) but a part of me assumes is that when he first gets over his initial doubts he's a very fierce and dedicated romantic._**

**_Countcuntula: First off, love the pen-name. Secondly, I'm so glad you're enjoying the story. I don't think any of my previous pairings have been given a name before. "Waylivia..." It actually makes me feel kind of proud. Thanks!_**

**_Hellgirl-fan1: I'm glad you liked it!_**

**_And to the peeps who favorited and alerted, I love you! Your support means the world to me!_**

**_PathlessSpore_**


	13. Rather Be

The Animal Inside  
Batman Fanfiction  
Waylon Jones/Killer Croc/OC  
Romance/Hurt/Comfort/Tragedy  
Chapter 13  
Rather Be

_Know with all of your heart, you can't shake me  
__When I am with you, there's no place I'd rather be_

_Rather Be - Clean Bandit ft Jess Glynne_

* * *

Liv was being more off than usual. Waylon watched her from his peripheral vision as they ate; Nan had made her homemade chili that night, a fan favorite that even he enjoyed, but Liv merely poked at it disinterestedly. She'd been visiting for about a week or so now; some days it looked like she was trying to power bash her way through the day with a smile, other times she'd stare of into the distance then leave early.

He was really worried about her, and he knew he wasn't the only one. Steven had confronted her more than once about her decline in mood. Liv would look at him as if she _wanted _to say something, but she just shook her head and told her brother not to worry. Of course that made the pair of them worry even more.

Waylon watched as she played with her food some more before grumbling irritably in his chest,

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" he snapped, Liv looked up at him confusedly, "You've been like this ever since last week."

"It's nothing," she replied, turning back to her bowl, "I can handle it myself-"

"Doesn't look like you're handling it at all."

To his surprise Liv got angry,"Look, I don't remember asking for your opinion," she spat with a cold glare, "So when I want it, I'll let you know. Until then, butt out!"

"Yeah," muttered Waylon shortly as he stood, "I'll remember that next time." With an angry huff he stalked away from her, throwing out his food as he did.

* * *

Olivia watched Waylon storm away; she didn't mean to snap at him, but she was tired of everyone asking what was wrong with her. It wasn't their problem, and there was nothing she could do about it. However, that didn't give her the right to take out her frustrations on the people she cared about.

Waylon did not deserve what he just received; determinedly she stood up to throw away her food and run after him. The carnival was still fairly busy that night, and it made it hard for her to traverse the crowd. For someone his size Waylon was still very fast, and he knew how to disappear when he wanted to be alone. Liv went to his trailer first hoping he'd be there.

To her surprise it lay empty, the door wide open and the inside dark. She hummed thoughtfully trying to to decide where else a man of his size could hide out,

"Lose something, sweetheart?"

Liv's insides froze solid; she recognized that voice and she quickly started to plan her escape. Waylon's trailer was well out of the way from the carnival, and the sounds of people yelling could easily drown out any cries of help from her.

She was on her own.

With a deep breath she turned around to face the ugly visage of James Muscovy. He was as mean looking as ever, perhaps even putting on a few more pounds around that rotund stomach of his. She gagged at the smell of stale beer, cigarettes, and sweat coming off of him as well as the three other goons that usually tailed him,

"Yes," she replied simply, "I'm looking for Waylon, you haven't seen him have you?"

Muscovy scoffed and hocked out a wad of spit into the grass, "What'ya want with a freak like that? A pretty lady like you needs to be around a real man." He stepped forward threateningly, his goons spreading out to effectively block out any plans for escape. Liv half thought about jumping into Waylon's trailer and sliding the door shut, but she knew she wasn't fast or strong enough to clamber up and close it in time.

Her chances of escape quickly plunged into the single digits as all four men closed in at all sides. Then, a huge silhouette grew out of the darkness. Bestial yellow eyes narrowed and a growl so loud that it rumbled through her own chest reverberated through the area. James and his men froze and looked up at the looming figure of Waylon, who bent down to snarl at the potbellied man,

"Beat it Muscovy." he threatened dangerously, and the group quickly made themselves scarce. As soon as they were gone Liv laughed breathlessly, a hand on her chest to try and clam her rapidly beating heart,

"Careful Waylon," she said, "A girl could get used to being rescued this often."

"Wouldn't need to do it if you weren't so stupid," he snapped back crossing his arms, wiping the smile off her face, "What the fuck were you thinking going off by yourself?"

"I know, but I didn't want to wait to apologize," she said, Waylon snorted and turned to walk away,

"Apologize for what, me being fucking nosy?"

Liv for was stunned for a moment before she ran after him, "That still doesn't excuse what I did," she argued as she fell into stride next to him, "I'm sorry about that."

He was oddly silent for a long while, she followed him to his show tent until finally she firmly planted herself in his path. He skidded to a halt so he didn't run her over,

"Why do I get the feeling you're not going to accept my apology?" He stared at her in silence before flicking his eyes away. Stubbornly Liv grabbed his hand, "You know what the funny thing about friends is? They worry about each other; and as far as I'm concerned I think you were a good friend confronting me about my behavior. It let's me know you care, even if you don't like to admit it."

She rubbed her palm over the flat of his hand for a moment before he pulled away. He cleared his throat with his eyes still averted from hers,

"Yeah, well I wasn't the only one who noticed..."

"I'll go talk to my brother later," she said with a laugh and a wave of her hand, "For now I'd like to spend more time with you. When's your next show start?"

Relieved to be off the topic, Waylon shrugged and strode into the back of the tent to Jaw's cage. He leaned on the glass wall and looked at his pet as he sunned himself under the warm lamps,

"I'm done for the night," he said when Liv came up next to him, "But I'll start again the same time tomorrow." The pair watched Lockjaw in silence until Waylon stunned her with an extremely simple question, so much that he had to repeat himself to make sure she heard right,

"You wanna pet him?"

Liv laughed breathlessly, taking in the sheer size of the reptile, "Umm, I would if I wasn't afraid he'd swallow me whole."

Her companion snickered at her, "Come on, he's harmless."

"Harmless," Exclaimed Liv, eyeing the bandages wrapped around his wrist and forearm, "Have you taken a good look at he's done to you this evening?"

"Didn't hurt that much." he muttered as he tugged on the bandages, Liv rolled her eyes and threw up her hands in mock defeat,

"Well, excuse me," she teased, "But not everyone has a natural defense against four inch, razor sharp teeth."

Waylon pushed himself off the wall and looked down at her, "What if I pin him down, will that make you feel better?"

She eyed Lockjaw again; she had a healthy respect for the creature. He was strong and surprisingly intelligent, but that didn't mean he wouldn't take her arm off if she somehow looked at him wrong. But she'd lying if she said she wasn't interested in getting close. Liv looked up at Waylon and with a nervous sigh said,

"Promise you won't let anything bad happen to me?"

He smirked at her and nodded his head, "Yeah, promise."

In the end it took him less than two minutes to enter the cage, approach Lockjaw, who tensed as his master closed in quickly and pinned the gator against the sand. Waylon sat comfortably on Jaw's back, his large thighs holding the reptile at the waist while his mouth was closed shut by strong hands. When he was sure that Jaw was under control, Liv was allowed into the cage.

She approached eagerly, albeit cautiously as well, and the next thing she knew she was kneeling down next to Lockjaw. She stared into the creatures' eyes, who looked less than pleased at his current predicament, and the two locked gazes. Jaw stopped his struggling as Liv reached a wary hand out and touched the base of the gator's neck.

A hiss erupted from Jaw's chest and her hand retreated as if had been stung. The reptile struggled a bit but was held firm by Waylon,

"Hey," he admonished sternly, "Be nice."

Sure that he wasn't going to cause trouble, Liv was allowed to try one more time and her hand once again found it's way back to the rough scales of Lockjaw's neck. She petted him for a moment, admiring the strength and toughness of his skin which shone a greenish copper in the light. Jaw calmed down and watched her in his peripheral, his breathing even and powerful as his sides rose and collapsed with each breath.

"He's a very beautiful creature," she said softly, pulling away,

"Dangerous too," replied Waylon, shifting slightly. He nodded his head toward the cage door and Liv quickly got up, dusted herself off, and left the habitat. She watched from the safety of the other side as her companion slowly stood, hands still wrapped around Jaw's mouth, and gave him a firm yet kind shake,

"Stay there," he said and very carefully he let go. To her surprise Jaw did as he was told, and the reptile watched as Waylon backed out of the cage. Eventually the gator returned to his sunlamp as his master re-locked the gate,

"See," he said as he strode up to her, "That wasn't so bad."

"It was an interesting experience, I'll admit that," she said with a shaky laugh, "Just don't expect me to do that again anytime soon."

"Fair enough."

Without meaning to Liv suddenly yawned. She heard Waylon chuckle and his large hand ruffled her hair playfully, pressing slightly down on her,

"Go home, sleepy," he teased lightly, Liv smiled at him and she followed him outside as he escorted her to the entrance, "I'll see you tomorrow?"

They reached her sleek looking car and she nodded, "Of course, I promise I'll be in a better mood by then." She barely got a leg into her car before he got her attention again,

"Hey Liv," she looked up at him and noticed he had awkwardly averted his gaze from her, hands jammed into his pockets, "Whatever it is your worried about, if you -uh-, what I mean is - uh-..."

She smiled at him softly, "Thank you, Waylon."

* * *

_**A few weeks later**_

Liv never told Waylon what was bothering her. When she wasn't spending time at the circus she was usually at home trying to plan her year long vacation. She saw no reason to burden him with her problems, and she didn't really want to listen to his opinion about the situation in the first place.

She planned on leaving the country at first, maybe going to France or Italy, but after some time of thought she abandoned it.

Today she was helping Waylon in his tent, moving boxes around in the back. She could only take the lighter ones, as the large man moved three or four at a time, but it was nice to work with him. They exchanged small talk to help the time pass more quickly,

"I can't believe you'll be leaving again in a few days," she pouted as she stacked the last of the crates, "I'm going to miss you."

"You gonna do anything while I'm away?"

"I might go on vacation," Liv replied, leaning against one of the bigger boxes, "But I haven't decided on a destination yet."

"Whatever it is be careful, you're a magnet for trouble."

"Thanks, Waylon," she laughed; they heard a pair of footsteps enter the tent and both looked up as a man addressed Waylon,

"Hey Jones, we need your help with one of the generators: It's malfunctioning."

"Get one of the electricians to deal with it." he snapped back shortly, the worker rolled his eyes,

"If we could have one of the other guys look at it, I wouldn't be here asking for your help. Everyone is busy and the soonest anyone could look at it is in a couple of hours. The five other generators can't compensate for that long."

Waylon cursed and crossed his arms, "If your hungry go get lunch, I'm gonna be a while, but stay in the crowd so you don't get jumped."

She followed after him, "Why can't I tag along with you?"

"I don't know how long this is going to take, and I doubt you want to stand around doing nothing for hours on end."

She frowned, but nodded nonetheless. He walked off towards the north while Liv went to get food. She enjoyed lunch with a few other performers, they sat and talked for a while but eventually had to go back to work. She stewed quietly with her bowl of soup now that she was alone with her thoughts.

It was going to be lonely when Waylon left again with the circus. By the next year she'd married off, and possibly pregnant with Jackson's child. She didn't think she could bear to have Waylon see her like that. Liv tried to think of ways to spend as much time as she could with him before he departed. She considered just following the circus, but she didn't have the money anymore to spend it on accomidations.

She perked up at a sudden thought; it was a long shot but worth a try.

Quickly she finished off her lunch and ran off to look for Mr. Corliss.

* * *

_**A few days later**_

"No, mother," said Liv wearily as she packed her bags, "I will not tell you where I'm going. Jackson allowed me to take this vacation so I could relax before we're married, because I'll be busy being his wife and baby-maker when I get back. I want to enjoy myself, and that means I don't want you calling me every five minutes."

Irritably she hung up as her mother started to yell, and she pulled the plug on the phone just as it started to ring again. With a sigh she finished her packing and grabbed two duffel bags full of clothes and toiletries. She dropped them off at her front door; Logan was sitting at the table looking very happy,

"Miss Olivia," he said, "I can't tell you how much this means to Sarah and I."

Liv shrugged, "Well I had to do something, are your passports in order?" Her bodyguard nodded, "Good, then you and your wife enjoy your time in Paris. Be safe."

"Too you as well, ma'm" called Logan as she retrieved her things and quickly went to stow them in her car. When everything was in order she drove off. It was the last day the carnival would be in town and she was eager to see Waylon and her brother again to tell them the news.

Of course it was busy when she arrived that evening. She had to push her way through the crowd, asking a few of the stall owners where her brother was. She was eventually steered toward the kiddie games where Steven was working.

"You look happier than usual, what's up?"

* * *

Waylon and Olivia were in the clearing waiting for the fireworks show to start. She seemed giddier than usual sitting there next to him. He smirked at her and poked her in the shoulder playfully,

"Finally found a nice vacation spot?"

"Yeah, I did."

"Well, as I said, be careful."

Finally, much to his surprise, she squealed in absolute delight and jumped up. With him sitting down they were nearly face to face, and he could see she was bursting with excitement,

"I can't hold it anymore," she said with a huge smile, "I'm coming with you guys!"

He furrowed a brow, "What?"

"I asked Mr. Corliss a few days ago if I could travel with the circus for a year. He was a little leery about it at first, but when I told him that I've been helping you he said as long as I pull my own weight it's okay. I'll be your assistant for the next whole year!"

He almost didn't want to believe it. Whatever fire she'd lit in his chest burned brightly at the thought of spending more time with her.

"So I'm stuck with you for an entire year," he grumbled, "Just my luck."

"Oh, don't be so grumpy," she teased, "It'll be fun!"

They looked up at the sound of the fireworks being shot off. Liv sat down next to him and placed a gentle hand on his leg as splashes of color painted the sky. He glanced down as the lights lit up her eyes, a small smile on her face.

A year with her, he couldn't wait to show her what she was missing out on.

* * *

_**A/N: Phew, finally done. Another long chapter, so I hope to get good reviews on it.**_

_**Speaking of which:**_

_**TheforgottenSheikah: Thanks for the review!**_

_**Countcuntula: I don't ever plan to stop writing!**_

_**Sleepipanda: Olivia is a young woman who is at war with her morals. Now that she knows that she's been spending money that doesn't exist, therefore putting her parents more into debt, well she feels responsible. Thanks for the review!**_

_**Swirlypasta: Thanks!**_

_**And to those who favorited and alerted the story. Thanks! Your support means a lot to me!**_

_**PathlessSpore**_


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